freedom is mine

December 15. 1999

freedom is mine...
the earth is still
I feel the wind
I breath again
the world is waking...

Excuse me...A Les Mis moment there. For those of you who don't know the musical, you probably think I'm nuts. And you're probably right. The fact that there was a time in my life that I could sing that entire 3 hour musical through from memory is really just very scary to me now.

But the fact remains, that I am free! free! free! of school for over a month, starting at 2:00 pm today. Not much has to be said about the finals. I did badly on Intellectual Heritage. I kicked ass on Art History. Nuff said.

I don't think I mentioned it here before, but my roommate Cheryl is moving out on me for the second semester to live with another person. It wasn't a big deal when she told me, because although I liked Cheryl, I didn't really connect with her too much and I wasn't best friends with her. She's a nice girl and we got along okay, so it was really no big deal, except for that residual feeling of the rejection. I mean, it's not so much that I'm upset that she's leaving, it's more the feeling of not being wanted, even by someone you don't like that much.

So most of last night was spent on a final foray to South Street with all my friends. It was quite enjoyable, we ate at the South Street diner, I had a reuben (not surprisingly) and we talked about the semester. Once we got home, Cheryl and I set to tearing apart the room, moving her out and getting the room ready for winter break. I was amazed, and continue to be amazed, by the amount of dust that can collect in a dorm room. We finally removed the disgusting, evil carpet. I am so glad I will never have to set eyes on that shitrag again. When we were finally done, the room looked so bare.

We had a party in our room for all our friends, lit candles, ate Kix and sampled various beverages. It was fun. We toasted to the semester, and to the friendships we made. Looking around at that circle of people, and knowing that they weren't perfect people and had flaws, just like me, I realized that despite all the shit that I went through with them, they're still my friends. And I guess I am lucky to have them.

So now I am home. I wish I could relax, but I've got this pottery demonstration on friday hanging over my head, and tomorrow I have to clean the studio, wedge clay and practice throwing a bit, among other things. I also have to get moving on making all my Christmas presents...yes, stupid me makes most of them.

I finally saw Deborah today, after four months. I went to pottery class, got to see all my old friends there. Deborah seemed a lot different...more worn down somehow. She's so sad, and because of that there are parts of her that I just can't touch. But sometimes I feel like there are parts of her that are younger and more naive than me. It's odd how I can talk to someone my mother's age and still feel like we connect completely. I usually can't relate to people my own age, yet someone 25 years older than me is such a close friend.

She was sick tonight, like she almost always is, and so I didn't get to talk to her too much. She hinted that some things had been happening while I was gone, but she didn't explain it any further. With her I've learned that if you're patient and wait she'll eventually reveal everything that's on her mind. She promised we would get together over the weekend, so I hope that will work out.

So. Now I have a month spread before me, all possibilities open. I have so much stuff planned. I'm looking forward especially to seeing all my friends from high school. It's funny, I didn't appreciate most of them during high school, now suddenly, they seem like such a lifeline. Everything changes...

music: Imperfectly, Ani DiFranco
food: stromboli and waay too much soda
read: something interesting...I think The Bell Jar, first. I need to get to the library.
sight: salt shaker
song lyric:
what if no one's watching / what if when we're dead we are just dead / i mean what if god ain't looking down / what if he's looking up instead
- What If No One's Watching, Ani DiFranco