Wednesday, April 19, 2006

The only thing I have to say...It's been a good year for the roses

Good Year For the Roses : Elvis Costello and the Attractions

Maybe I'll re-do that. I saw Bob Dylan last night with my superfriend, maybe I'll put one of his lyrics up instead. Then it would look like this:

And when we meet again, introduced as friends, please don't let on that you knew me when...

Just Like A Woman : Bob Dylan

or even the whole last verse of "Don't Think Twice, It's Alright".

If anything, the show was anti-climactic. Disappointing. Not what I'd hoped for. We got there at intermission, and promptly got teased by the usher for missing Merle Haggard. Oh well. Saw two acquaintances from years ago, who I used to be close friends with but now I'm not. I hate seeing them; it always reminds me of what a terrible person I can be/was when I was 15. Maybe the Dylan title would be more fitting.

I wish I could say he was better than okay. I wish I could say he was great. He was better than when I saw him two years ago, but he is still with that keyboard. I kept thinking, "Does he even have hands?"

It was still a very good night. I really do love my boyfriend. He makes me laugh and laugh and laugh until no more sound comes out of my mouth and I'm doubled over doing that not laughing but not not laughing twitch.

I think it's that time of the month. I am kind of depressed. PMS? Probably. Dear internet, welcome to the contents of my uterus.

I am nineteen now. For a blog about college, I haven't really talked about college at all. Lots of things have been happening, important and no. Here we go!!

Last month, I watched a murder trial. I helped put somebody behind bars and I cried on my dad's shoulder immediately afterwards about how I'd forgotten some of the things I wanted to say and that I had failed. Over the course of the day, I realized that I didn't fail at all and it was better that I didn't say the things I wanted to say. That made me faceless, nameless, ordinary, and nothing too special. It was just fine, since I (in my mind at least) was representing the hundreds of kids who went to all the shows and never knew him.

Also last month, my roommate dropped out of school, reapplied to another college, moved out of the dorms, and right into my old house. I am still furious about that.

I had my birthday last Thursday. My dad took my sister, my boyfriend, his best friend, and I to Chicago last week so we could go to our first hometown NHL game (Blackhawks against Red Wings! Too bad Blackhawks lost.), go to a Cubs game (both of which were on my birthday!), so we could galavant around the city, and SO I COULD RIDE ON A FUCKING ZAMBONI. That's right. For my 19th birthday I rode on a zamboni at an NHL game. I fucking RULE. So does my dad, for setting this all up in secret.

My best friend got me Charmed Thirds. You know, the third book in the Jessica Darling series by Megan McCafferty. It made me want to start keeping a journal again. Yikes.


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