So I'm back in NJ for probably the last weekend. I'm cleaning out the apartment today and tomorrow and will be leaving it to be shown to the next prospective tenant (after paying rent for September on an apartment I'm no longer using). Driving down from Ithaca this time, I could feel that the sand has now mostly shifted into the other half of the hourglass. Ithaca is home now, and this is the place I go for the weekend to take care of stuff; the reverse has passed into untruth. Or something.
So, okay, in Ithaca, all my friends are still lightyears away. But I don't have internet there, and no one calls me (am I whining already, only three paragraphs into the entry?). I don't call anyone either. I know that. But bah, I don't have time, what with mountains of reading to do etc. What's nice when someone calls you is you can go all STUDY BREAK! and that rules. I don't call anyone, and no one calls me. That's kinda the point, though. The last time I was in the Communication class I'm in right now, I bailed when the group project came up. This time, I raised my hand in class and said: "What happens if we don't have a group?" I mean, there's no discussion; it's just assumed you have four friends in the class (which most people do, and I hate them for it). So I'm in a group this time, but I've only met one of the members (she's a chick, and she has a motorcycle helmet because her boyfriend rides but he won't let her ride, so yeah, maybe I will tell her about the MSF and blah blah) and ARGH. All my fucking friends are on the internet and I am not. I realize I sounded totally spoiled when I flipped out about not having internet for more than a month, but it's my social network. It's my friends. And I miss it.
I hate labels. Social anxiety is peeking over the fourth wall like Kilroy, staring at me. Bastard. But I'm a lucky, lucky boy. I've had tckma, contadina, reverend_dave and blackacre visit me. cele8stial and I are going to do dinner next week; we haven't decided when. I'm not going down without a fight.
I don't know what to say. I'm just frustrated. That's what a journal is for. I'm looking down the line to either winter break or the summer after graduation to do something verging on insanity. I still haven't done cross-country to California. Who knows? Maybe I'll sell the KLR (though I don't know that I could ever do that), buy a BMW and just go. I fear owning a BMW, though. I would probably speak only German whilst astride it, and I don't even know German. Jermaine, yes. Though I fail to see how that's germane. It turns out my German ancestors were originally Norse, however, so maybe I should just run out and purchase a Husqvarna (yes, I spelled that right without looking it up, I rule!). sobriquet is about to embark on his cross-country trip, and I'm highly jealous. Though I do have about six weeks between winter and spring session that I could use... I'm just afraid if I hit the road, I might never come back home.
You can't run from your problems. Buy a motorcycle; it's faster and it gets better gas mileage than a car or truck.
No self-indulgent whiny post is complete without an AIM chatlog:
I: I am bad at friends
'quet: It's hard, apparently.
I: Social anxiety, I think
'quet: I've been stood up twice by my one friend that used to work with me.
I: That's my unprofessional diagnosis
I: I'm like DEAR PEOPLE, PLEASE HANG OUT WITH ME
I: Maybe I should get a sad emo t-shirt made up that just says "lonely."
I: That would rule
I: And I could walk around wearing purple cords and that and looking mopey
I: "Take me home and hug me!"