chchchchchuuushhh

I wanted to put something down about how, even being here, I still get bouts of restlessness. Talking over the phone, I realized it is most likely a common occurrence, with anyone. With even the students residing here for their respective time. And I was trying to understand how to fix it.

Mostly because I thought that was why I was leaving for some time. To add something that I didn't have before in my 'being'. Whatever that being is, I don't know. And rather than anything being added, it seems to be the same.

I do think its funny I like the idea of having a picture over to the right side of this blog than the digg counter being at the top. And, I remember Jake saying at one point that blog is an ugly fucking word. I agree. I wish there was something else to call it. But, and especially here (Blogger), there isn't much course of action to change. I don't have a Xanga, and wouldn't want this place to summon up images of teenage girls giggling back and forth. X-a-n-g-a.

I don't really want to refer to it as a journal. I suppose it is a place to write down thoughts, events, and experiences. But in an online world, where, it is in the most visible place possible, it seems to kill that word. Where did Blog come from anyway? I remember hearing the word on CNN, where they were finally realizing the large amount of information being posted by private individuals on INTERNET.

Not that I want to spark a revolution to change-the-word. I don't suppose I'm much of a figurehead in the world of social change, social thought, and following.

So I was thinking about how today I watched the new diggnation instead of going to the bank and paying my rent. So now tomorrow. Tomorrow I have to. And I should muster something up to go celebrate a birthday party. But, I just bought tickets that were semi expensive for a domestic flight. And I don't want to lose my mind in the night, then through to the train and back in my dark room; where I will most assuredly ask myself the following question staring in the mirror of my terrible smelling bathroom where the floor is wet because my roommate doesn't towel off. WHY?

That why will lead me to my bed where I will sit and look down at the floor running my hands through my hair listening to the disintegration loops IV; having dreams where Britney Spears is on trial for shaving her head. And where Stephanie appears out of nowhere as her attorney in a power suit (because I guess I recently talked to Stephanie) explaining that, "A woman, sometimes, goes through rough times. Britney here has been the victim. A victim of divorce and drugs, sex, and media attention. And when this happens, a woman needs to shed herself of the past. Remove those awful things that sit with her in bed, alone at night. May I present you the defendant," and Stephanie waves out towards the jury and spectators, in the Old Victorian Courthouse in London, and the gasp and wave and a woman faints and men murmur and shake their heads. And the Jury starts to cry and say she is not guilty. And Stephanie becomes a convincing defender for Britney Spear's shaved head in the dream.

And then I wake up and I ask myself why again and I just. I lost it all. I was holding this whole thing in my head trying to write it all down before it escaped me. But my buzzer rang, there was some chatter, a phone call, and then I forgot.

But what the hell was that dream?!

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halfway done with applied spectroscopy