queelez: A self-portrait done in an icon maker (Self Portrait)
God dammit, why do I have to be so dammed candid?

So. As many of you know, I have a vast quantity of internet friends. (Y'all know this because, well half of you are said friends). I also really love getting to know people--online and offline. There are few things I like more than chatting away with some nifty person, particularly if they're into the same things I am. And especially if said 'thing' is RPing.

It'd just be really nice if I remembered that not everybody is like that.

The story's pretty simple, really. )
queelez: A self-portrait done in an icon maker (Default)
Despite any minor anxiousness about homework or directing.
Despite the fact that I miss home when I'm at college, and college when I'm at home.  (Ahoy there, conflict on where I belong!)
Despite one of my favorite hats not fitting me very well anymore

I'm incredibly happy at this point in time.  It's a very nice realization.

And to whomever's reading this (all thirty or so of my flist), I sincerely hope that you're feeling this way as well.  (And, if you aren't, I'm sure that you will soon).


PS:  Check this icon, made about half a year ago.  Black jacket, violet shirt.  I had many violet shirts at the time, but no black jacket.  Before I came back to college, I bought a black corduroy jacket.  And tonight I wore it with a violet shirt.  Did my icon predict the future?

Clockticks

May. 23rd, 2009 09:45 am
queelez: A self-portrait done in an icon maker (Default)
Well, here we are.  After nine months of friends, schoolwork, drama, and even (gasp!) complicated love, I've reached the end of my Freshman year of college.  My dad'll be here to pick me up in a couple of hours, so all that's left to do is say goodbye to the last of my friends and wait.

It's been a good year.  No, actually--it's been a great year.  I've grown as a student (actually taking notes and staying organized!), as a friend (actually having a social life!), community member (participating in theatre) and person (somehow).  College has down all of the magical, mystical things that everybody said it would.

I don't know what I'm going to be up to this summer.  I had applied and interviewed for a job, but it didn't pan out--so it looks like I'll be sticking to a lot of volunteer work.  I do have a few personal projects dreamed up, though--writing a radio drama or two, working on an epic Doctor Who fanfic, and learning how to cook.

Drew's leaving.  He's checking out with our local RA right now.  I'm having to do the big official thing, once my dad gets here.  We'll be bunking again next year.  Why try and fix something when it's not broken, eh?

I've got to say goodbye to a lot of good people--Pan, Casie, Dan, Rich, Erika, and a few more.  It's just...I dunno.  A lot of them really helped me get situated and suchlike.  It's just damn weird.

Last night, I had a dream.

I was flying--this in itself is not an uncommon occurrence; I fly a lot during dreams.  But this time it was different.  I was visiting my old high school, and there were a lot of people I know around in the area--friends, old classmates, church members, etc.  I left the building and started to levitate, before I was full-out soaring above the school's grounds, doing loops and spins.  Everybody was cheering as I went by, waving if I dipped low to see them.  I finally touched down and chatted with a few people, who all gave me compliments about my flight.  I grinned, and the dream ended soon after.

I find this incredibly appropriate for today.
queelez: A self-portrait done in an icon maker (Default)
Tonight was an extraordinarily eventful night in an extremely calm and quiet way.

Last Friday was my annual lots-of-stress-small-things-pile-up-oh-god-oh-gaaaawd night. (For those curious, disappointing math scores, various idiots at mealtime, getting slapped, RP troubles, and Yoga at seven-thirty in the morning in a room without heating when it was almost twenty below). It was a bit stressful, really, and it cumilated in my incredibly rare cry--but after a phone call with a friend of mine (Shoutout to my true love, Lauren), I felt better. The problems weren't solved, but at least things got better.

When night came tonight, I was a bit restless. It was an uneventful day as a whole, the most memorable decision being whether or not I wanted to go to Yoga after a rather rotten night's sleep. (I did, and it was fortunatly in a heated room today). I was pretty exhausted after dinner due to no reason whatsoever, and had already decided to not go to Nightsounds (a sorta variety show my friends are in), audition for the one-act (with the added excuse that some of my classes are going to murder me), or a gaming session downstairs (but I don't like the guy hosting it, so whatever). I did wake up a bit, though--hence the restlessness. I had to do something or other, apart from just alternate between Super Mario RPG and Chrono Trigger.

I was already a bit dapper (I've taken to wearing vests and tucked-in shirts now and again), so I thought I'd just go the whole nine yards. I took out my awesome frock coat (the Prom attire for you St. Paul-ites) and, as my winter hat clashes with it, dust off (literally) my bowler. I figured that I'd run down to the Ponzio, grab some chocolate or a pastry or something, and head on back and make some cocoa while watching a movie on my laptop or something.

So, I got down to the place, and a couple of my friends were there. It was a nice surprise, as I thought they'd headed off to Nightsounds--so I opted to buy hot chocolate down there and tart it up, to spend some time chatting away. We're nestled away in a corner, and there are a couple tables of Hockey-playing jocks nearby. I ignore them, as one of their friends (who wasn't there) singles me out during mealtime to try to raise my blood. For whatever reason, I start to describe to my friends the difference between a dork, a nerd, and a geek. One of the jocks is looking over as I talk, clearly interested, and comes over once I'm finished to hear it from the start. I comply, and another guy comes over and sits down. I jokingly ask if anybody else wants to listen.

Cue everybody in earshot huddling around our corner to hear what this weird guy with the coat and hat had to say.

I wind up giving a five-ten minute lecture on the social ramifications of geeks, nerds, and dorks--differences, examples, similarities, etc etc. I finish, people applaud, and most everyone goes back to whatever they were doing. Three of the jocks, though, hang out with us, and we start talking. (Brandon, Stevie, and...I forgot the last guy's name).

Our conversation covered a variety of topics--life at Northland, our respective hometowns, the Mall of America, TV when we were younger. The best part, though, was that after the initial chit-chat about my lesson, he said that he knew the guy who kept on shouting at me during lunch/dinner and told me not to worry, that he was just a dick to everyone. My opinion of the guy I was talking to (Brandon) grew.

The talk cumilated with a tag-team explanation of my voice and various hearing recovery procedures. (My friend, Emily, has a younger brother with much the same situation). After that, the two groups (Brandon and his friends, me and my own) go our separate ways, before I headed back to my dorm.

So, tonight I had some rather delicious hot chocolate, gave an improvised speech on a theory of mine, unexpectedly met up with friends, made new friends, and let my preconceived stereotypes crumble the slightest bit. And I was in Nineteenth-century formalwear.

It was a damn good night.
queelez: A self-portrait done in an icon maker (Default)

The Christmas Eve service at my church always ends with the congregation singing "Silent Night" while lightning candles, and walking out of the sanctuary.  It's always incredibly beautiful--not quiet, per se, but just...still, I suppose.  This was my first Christmas coming home from college, so after the song there were many hugs to be given, many quick summaries of my first semester.  I saw a lot of people who I hadn't seen since Thanksgiving, and even more that I hadn't seen since I left in Mid-August.

We exchanged Secret Santas tonight, as we always do--our family rule is that you can't spend any money on them.  In other words, they're handmade--poems, collages, gift certificates for specific meals and services, and whatnot.  All of them had things to do with growing up, this year--I wrote a poem about change for my Dad.  My dad gave me some humorous (and useful) college lists--why I'm doing well, rules for my dorm, etc.  Mom made my sister, Ellen, a small cookbook of her favorite recipes, and Ellen gave Mom a really awesome collage detailing some highlights of the Campain and Election.

In this time of change and confusion about life, direction, and the state of the world, it's nice to just have quiet little moments.

Merry Christmas, everybody.

Rest in Peace, Gordon.

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queelez: A self-portrait done in an icon maker (Default)
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October 2011

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