start over again.

i want to throw up and cry and just rid my body of the last week. i just need to get rid of all the yucky feelings. i need a full on catharsis. i wanna jump in the ocean. i wanna wash everything away.

weird place.

i'm in one of those weird places now. there are too many thoughts up in my head and too many ideas. when i'm given too many options or ideas i become overloaded and just shut down and don't want to do anything. i'm usually a take things as they come person, but i do plan ahead a lot. i compartmentalize in my brain what is now and what is later. i worry about what i need to do NOW, save the other stuff for later. but i feel like my compartments are broken and are just spilling over into each other. how do i fix that? i need to start doing yoga. maybe a list? this is for me, i'm boring so don't worry about it. also, the fact that i am completely and utterly broke in every sense of the word and just threw away most of my food cos it's moldy may be a huge problem. food=love; lack of food=headache withdrawals

-midterm this friday-math
-lines for theatre
-finals week-art history/math
-final paper-fem
-read for self
-plans for this weekend
-spring break plans?
-disneyland is much needed at this point
-birthday plans?
-somehow acquire money, eat food.

i feel at this point it's because everything's hitting me at once and needs immediate attention? if it were just finals and too many options for spring break i would be fine dealing with it, but add to the fact that i don't have food and don't know when i will. well. it's hard to focus on the other stuff.

memory lane.

so i was looking through some old stuff on the internet and i came upon the guy i liked in high school. i was a freshman when he was a senior. he had a girlfriend yet flirted with me incessantly and i let him. his girlfriend hated me. he told me he wanted to take me to the prom but he had a girlfriend. weird shit.
so he graduated and i didn't talk to him after that. about a year later i found out he was dating someone else and soon after, married her! hahahaha. that was so weird.
now i've looked him up again and he's divorced. BAHAHAHA. why is that so funny? i'm terrible.
and even though i don't care about looks or weight and i hate using the word fat, he's definitely put on the pounds since high school. like, WHOA. sorry, i'm gonna die in my sleep now cos i'm a terrible person. hehehe.

21.

all my comments are spam. honestly, i got 5 of them in the last week. C'MON PEOPLE. just, you know, say hi or something.

i was just thinking about how my 21st birthday is in like a year or something. holy shit. remember when we would count this down, shey? going on 6 years?! ridic. i'm gonna do vegas, cos it's cliche except i like, live in vegas so it's not so cliche but more like something i would do on any birthday. then i realized i'm pretty early in my group of friends to turn 21. so i would be going with my family, whom i love, but i want friends. i'm looking at you, shey and erin, aka the only people who read this besides spammers. well, maybe only spammers do now. i've lost my appeal. my two best friends who turn before me wouldn't be able to either probably. one is on her way to med school (overachiever) and the other lives in new york. fun times. this is a ramble. forgive me.

lost.

thursday i decided to, FINALLY, join the lost bandwagon. i just think of it as being a huge procrastinator. in 3 days i have managed to watch the first 20 episodes (is that pathetic or what?). so i give you:

nicole's thoughts and analysis of lost so far:
-oh wow, jack is pretty hot
-locke is fucking smart as hell
-sayid is pretty good looking
-INCEST?!
-is there gonna be one episode without a fight, or disaster?
-charlie is adorable, damn drug addict
-IMMACULATE CONCEPTION?!
-*bug eyes*
-holy shit, if i was on the island i'd be fucking sawyer every chance i got
-every. chance.

neil gaiman.

i went to see neil gaiman talk last night.
it was lovely.
he is an amazing story teller, not only with words but with reading aloud. i wish he would read everything to me, including instruction manuals.
i went with my nerdfighting friend elise, who is an above and beyond neil gaiman fangirl.
there was a line to get books signed (because we were the lucky school that got a book signing, suck it UCLA), and i had a strategy. due to my extensive meeting of people (?), i knew that if we went to the back of the line, we would get a tad more time to talk to him, and get a more uncensored, REAL, meeting. there were a few others who thought along the same lines and they were fun people.
i'd met him before, but it was much more informal, at an amanda palmer show. i hardly talked to him, or amanda for that matter, but mostly to beth, amanda's assistant. this was the first time really talking to him.
so i brought fragile things cos it was the only gaiman book i had with me up here in sb, then i realized i also had jd salinger's franny and zooey with me cos i just carry it everywhere to read it. so we waited 3 hours and got to meet him at 1 in the morning, while he made cute little british yawns and still cracked jokes.
when he saw franny and zooey he said "well, he won't be signing these anytime soon...and now i will be struck by lightning". i couldn't stop laughing then i said "NO!! not before i get my book signed!!". it was incredibly lovely meeting him, and gave me hugs. he is such a huggable person. also we shared our love of amanda's greatest song "the bed song". sigh.

sometimes i wish i was an author.


p.s. when i got back to my apartment, i realized i had my little sister's copy of the graveyard book in my bookcase. i felt horrible that i didn't get it signed for her. but c'est la vie.


"For Nicole-
Signed in absentia-
Neil Gaiman"


HUG.

he is busy signing my book, which is perfectly fine. i look good though, according to elise.

p.p.s. THE HAIR. it's even better in person.

androgyny.

sometimes i think i am soooooo stereotypically a guy, for reasons i don't feel like explaining.
and then sometimes i'm such a stereotypical girl i sicken myself.
i guess what i'm getting at is androgyny is awesome.

spam.

my posts have started to get spam comments on them. i don't know if that's supposed to symbolize what this blog has become but i hope not.

i've been in a weird place lately, but i am VERY AWARE that it is a weird place. my brain seems fuzzy all the time, and i don't know if it's just cos i'm sick. i'm hoping once i'm over it, the weird place will dissipate. i've always been working on trying to identify what i'm feeling and whether i want to pursue those feelings. whether it's worth it to be depressed, or angry. i think many of our feelings are very much voluntary. not necessarily when we start feeling them but for how long we continue to let them live within us and consume us. it's very easy to let depression consume you. around this time last year i remember the conscious decision to let my depression take over me because i didn't allow myself to feel for so long. it felt good to dive into those feelings and indulge in destruction. but not literal destruction.

go ask alice sparked that. that book will forever be associated with that time for me, and i am eternally grateful for opening up that gate that i was so terrified to open. those close to me saw it firsthand, they knew something was wrong. only one person actually knew exactly what was going on in my life and that's because she lived with me. i had to explain weird things to her, and she was very understanding and comforting and could empathize to some extent. i haven't let myself be depressed since then, i think. no longer than a day. i don't let myself. i don't know if that's why i'm in this weird place, if i'm flirting with that line again. i don't think i am, i don't find myself to have any reason to be.

it may be sickening and it's cliche, but i loved the writing that came out of my depression. everything i did or listened to or watched just felt so fucking real. it was raw. i allowed music to enter my soul, let words become embedded within me. i allowed it because i was already in a vulnerable state. music and writing move me to no end, but i've never been as deeply affected as i was during that time period. who killed amanda palmer will forever be the music associated with that time.

don't get me wrong, i would never. ever. wish those circumstances upon me again, or to anyone else for that matter. i'm not wishing for them to come back to allow me to be depressed, but it was nice to access those feelings. but i also like being happy so much.

now i'll stop before my vagueness becomes even more maddening for you, i'm sure.

sorry, self,

i'm only allotting you five minutes to cry. you have things to do.

i should write things.

i should do a lot of things.