Okay, well, I've calmed down a bit. I'm in that fatigued, depressed stage that comes after a jag of crying. Broke down after that last entry. Haven't heard from him or Kate. I know they're home 'cause he logged off. Guess I wasn't invited to the party. Doesn't really matter. I'm not in much of a mood to be social. South Park's at 10. I'll hang out then. I've a feeling, though, I'm going to do something really stupid.

In the meantime, I figured I'd get started on those introductions.

Sara: Sara and I have known each other for three years now. She and I met freshman year, because she lived in the dorm room directly across from mine. Sara's a very pragmatic person, with a whacked out sense of humor. She's big on "South Park" too, and she likes those campy, slapstick type of movies & television shows. Sara and I are the ones who are usually clashing on some issue or another. She gets fed up with what she calls my "melodramatic ways" and I become annoyed when she scoffs at emotional responses. We've been known to waste oodles of time on pointless philosophical conversations, for no other purpose besides the fact that it's fun. Sara tends to downplay her problems, giving off the impression that she's the stable one in the group. Sadly enough, it's probably true. Still, I count Sara as one of my closest friends, even though we're polar opposites. She's usually there when I need her and she'll always try to make me feel better. And she lets me borrow her cds. The good ones. She once forced me to listen to Dave Matthews for TWO HOURS.

Kate: Kate and I met freshman year through Sara, but we didn't become close until sophomore year when we found ourselves living in a building of freshmen. Kate's in the middle of our trio, as she's most like me in temperment, but she shares Sara's sense of humor. Kate's one of those people who can't be called conventionally beautiful, but the loveliness of their souls just radiates through their skin. She's an empath, like me, and up to this year, we shared the same guy woes. Kate's a prodigy violinist, with an amazing talent. There are times when listening to her lightens my spirit and times when I'd do anything but listen to her play another note of classical music. I usually bring a book when I go down to her room, just in case. She shares my interest in romance novels, although Kate says her perfect guy would be someone who would shower her with gifts, but who wouldn't actually come near here. We've decided she either wants a stalker or God.

Debbie: Debs is my bestest friend and the one who's known me for the longest. Deb is a lovely person, although pathalogically shy. Phone conversations with her usually involve me saying repeatedly, "Just talk to him already!" Deb has stood by me through almost everything. She was the first person to override my protests and come to visit me after my surgeries, when I was under house arrest. Debbie has an incredible sense of timing, usually finding a parking spot in front of the mall lot, just as the person is pulling out. She also is a great judge of character, having disapproved of all my previous male entanglements up to Joe. Deb drives everywhere we go, saying that she let me drive once and that it'll never happen again. I say she's a big wuss.

Joe: By now, y'all know who he is. The man I'm in love with and therefore engaged in a semi-mutual break-up with. We share a lot of similar personality traits, but we have different methods of operation. He's also the only one up here who shares my enjoyment of pop music, much to Sara's disgust. Between him and Sara, I've become utterly corrupted, although they claim I possessed a perverted mind before they came along. All I know is that I definitely didn't watch "South Park" or curse this much before them. No matter what happens between us in the future, I'm sure we'll part on good terms. We have to. He's the only one of my friends who knows how to fix things.

So those are the key players for now. "South Park" is going to be on soon, so I'm going to run. There's also a blizzard going on outside and I think Kate's friend is going to end up crashing here for the night. Visibility is nil. Wouldn't it be lovely if they cancelled classes tomorrow? *sigh* Sara's right. I am idealistic....


#

      ( 7:08 PM ) K  

He took me to the Mall. Just him and me. Went to the ATM for some money and then to Joann's for more flowerpots. I'm going to try to plant these apple seeds I saved. Kate didn't come with us. I'd been kinda hoping the three of us would go and then we could do dinner there. Sort of a way to get things back on track. But after he dropped me off, Kate came out and they went to pick up her friend Heather from Baldwinsville. I almost lost it in the lobby.

He took my scrunchie. I was all depressed because it was really sinking in that things between us were different. We were walking out of Joann's, I'm looking down at my shoes and he took my scrunchie. He gave it right back, though. Which is kinda heartbreaking itself. Taking my scrunchies was always like our major form of flirting. It's strange, but it's like our thing. Really the only thing that was just for the two of us. He never took anyone else's scrunchies. He took my scrunchie. Things are really never going to be the same again, are they? His taking my scrunchie is never going to mean the same thing again.

I think I was deluding myself. I think I really believed that in the end, we'd end up back together. That all I had to do was wait for a couple of days and then he'd agree that we should start moving forward and then I'd be able to be with him again. But it's really not going to happen, is it? I'm never going to be able to call him "love" again, never be able to have him hold me the same way, never going to be able to ask if we could do something, just the two of us. When he smirks at me, with that dimple flashing, it's not going to mean the same thing anymore. The two of us are never going to be in the car and he's never going to reach for my hand again. No more late nights curled up in bed, watching tv. No more wrestling around because he took my scrunchie...

God, I thought I could handle this, but it hurts so much. I love him, but to not be with him? So maybe I wasn't completely happy before, but at least I wasn't hurting this much. He took my scrunchie. God, how am I going to get through this? #

      ( 5:06 PM ) K  

Went to go ask Joe to take me and Kate to the Mall. Woke him up again. He looked so adorable, all curled up under the blanket. Once again, I just wanted to crawl in with him. I'm so weak.

It started snowing here again, which I don't mind, but I hate when it's sunny at the same time. I feel weird when I'm wearing my sunglasses when precipatation is falling from the sky. My dear old friend Dan once told me that I was the only person he knew that came to Syracuse because it was cold. I can vividly remember being at my sweet 16 and having Tim tell me that the sun only appeared at the beginning of the fall semester and the end of the spring semester. We all know about my nocturnal habits.

I'm actually watching an episode of the Brothers Gracia on Nickelodon where the main character mets a new friend who happens to be hearing impaired. Given the usual amount of jokes I get about my impairment, it's interesting to see this from a different angle. Amazingly, there are people in the world who treat this sort of thing with compassion. Who woulda thunk it?

I'm gonna go wake Joe up again. I don't think I'll have the willpower this time if he's still in bed. We'll see. I realized that my two divergent group of friends probably aren't familiar with each other, so I'll address that in my next entry. Later, amigos. #

      ( 1:07 PM ) K  

Just got an email saying that I am apparently qualified for a position in the Navy's Supply Corps. Ooo baby. I'm moving up in the world.

I'm sitting in the Writing Center, bored as usual. I just finished up a fourteen-minute session with a girl who was smarter than me. It was a rather intimidating experience. She brought in her personal statement essay for a scholarship application. With each paragraph, I'd get more self-conscious. It was like, "Well, yeah, you've made Dean's List three years running and are the top student in your major, but, y'know, you didn't put a comma here. So hah." I am a petty, petty person.

Balanced my accounts today. I've been really good at not spending money, except the thing is I'm too generous. I keep picking up tabs, which I really can't afford to do. Damn my generous heart. The majority of my VISA bill last cycle was either tabs or stuff for Valentine's Day. I need to stop buying things for people. And books. It would be a good idea to stop buying books too. Yeah. Like that'll happen.

Most of you haven't seen me in a while, or if you're some random person who stumbled onto my journal and kept reading because I'm too-too witty, then you've never seen me. So anyway, the last surgery worked, so I've got my sense of smell back and I can breathe again. Because I'm actually getting oxygen again, I've had more energy to do things. I believe I've lost some weight, since I can now fit into jeans that were much too tight before. I told Mom and Joe, darn him, was right when he predicted that she wouldn't care much. Mom always told me that guys would never like me if I didn't lose weight. So here I am with a guy (or used to be) and somewhat thinner, and she's still not happy. And people don't understand why my self-esteem's the size of a dried out grape (or a raisin as some wacky cultures might call it).

I only have two major new scars. The one on my face trails down from the left (your right) corner of my nose out and down to line up with the left corner of my mouth. It's at least three inches long. I'm rather self-conscious about it, especially since I'm still swollen, even after two and a half months. The good news is that I noticed the other day that it's starting to turn that translucent color and is fading slightly. I mentioned this to Joe and he's like, "Yeah. I noticed that." Aargh! Would it have killed him to mention this to me? I'm all obsessing about whether or not the scar makes me even less attractive than usual and he can't even tell me that it's hardly noticeable anymore! In all fairness, though, he never really cared about the scar to begin with. He came to visit me when I still had stitches in and it didn't seem to matter to him at all. It got so that even I forgot what I looked like which made for some surprises whenever I had to go to the bathroom and saw myself in the mirror...I'm getting all depressed again. Moving on...

The scar in my scalp is the one that I hate so very, very much. It is just starting to really heal, so as my hair grows back and other events occur that I won't share with you because they can be seen as gross, occasionally I start to bleed. It's annoying being in class and having your head start to shed blood. Not to mention it gets so incredibly ITCHY! My skin is sensitive enough in the winter, but with a healing scar, it's like I never stop having that gawdawful tingling feeling that makes you want to just scratch like crazy. Which is also embarassing when you're in class.

Nothing else much to say now and apparently I have a guy coming in at 1:30. So I'm going to end now and go check out the livejournal crowd before I switch into tutor mode. And to try not to scratch... #

      ( 2:46 AM ) K  

He and I just hung out for like the last two hours. I studied for my psych test (yes, I actually do that), while he wrestled with a project estimation. So very little talking was done. Mostly just peaceful cohabitation. But then we finished up and we watched television before bed like we used to. Except this time I was on the floor and he was in the bed. He said I could move up with him if I'd be more comfortable and God, I was so tempted. But I stayed on the floor. Because if we are just going to stay friends, I need to start treating him the same way I'd treat my other guy friends. And no offense fellas, but I wouldn't crawl into a bed with you either. Being in bed with a guy doesn't fit my "friend" schema. Yet the Good Lord knows physical affection is one of the things I crave. Holding hands, an arm around the shoulder, brushing my hair back from my face, all will give me the warm fuzzies. Warm fuzzies are going to be in short supply now. I kinda wish that touching wasn't such a big thing with me, but then if it wasn't, it wouldn't give me warm fuzzies. It would just be an everyday thing. Touching is special. When we used to hold hands, it was like he was completely aware of me. And that complete awareness was something I valued. Guess that's something else I'll have to learn to live without. Then again, it's been a while since I've had any of that anyway.

I've GOT to do my laundry. I swear, it's starting to smell again. There are just some disadvantages to having my sense of smell back. For one thing, I can smell things again.... #