On Crap.

Goddamn, I need a life. Fuck. I know that I'm only feeling this way because I'm in between something, and have nothing to do at home, but pack, talk to my mom, watch TV, and be online. I feel like shit tonight, for some reason. Just sort of...empty. Like...there's nothing real right now. I'm sure that's making no sense, but there it is. On the one hand, I want Friday to come as soon as possible. On the other, I am so scared that it's getting here faster than I can handle.

Will I find anyone in England?

Will I stumble around, with no one to talk to, but people who live Very Far Away, and cry to my pillow at night, and take anti-depressants in the morning?

What will happen there?

I know that getting away from College O' Hell is a good thing. But...I don't know. I'm bitching and moaning about an opportunity of a lifetime, it's stupid. And I don't want to stay here - that much, I know. I'll miss Sam and my friends and family. But I won't miss the place - and I can't handle going back there, not yet.

But right now, I feel like shit. Pathetic, too.

I miss having friends to hug and talk to until 3 in the morning. I love that I can go online and talk to people until then, and get *snuggled*, but then when the computer is off, I'm alone.

And then I go to bed. And then I wake up, look around at the mess, and leave it there. I only have three nights left of doing that.

The waiting is killing me, but the anticipation is, too.

God, I'm fucking scared. So, so scared.

EDITED: Fuck. And now I'm crying. I couldn't get much lower. I just wish I could fucking TALK to someone, someone whose voice I actually heard. But all my friends are asleep. Because it's late. And I'm pathetic.

On Salsa.

Talking to C. last night made me think of something, and just now hearing Shakira's "Objection Tango" on TV (she can't sing, but man, is the music fun, anyway) made me think.

I just realized what I really miss. Salsa. No, not the dip – the dance. Back home – home home, Upstate NY – Tali’s dad used to throw parties, every other weekend, that were centered around two things – Tequila and Salsa (and his home-made lamb made an appearance at 1am). After freshman year, when we all came home, we were invited to attend these bi-weekly “meetings”, as they were called, and it was fanfuckingtastic. There were people dancing, Latin (real Latin) music blaring, lots of drinking, and the three of us. We, neither one of us, drank, but man, did we dance. Did we ever dance. During that summer, I really learned how to salsa – and it is so much fun. Now, I am not a graceful person by any stretch of the imagination – I walk into more things than I actually avoid – but this is the one thing that I can actually do. (That, and meringue, but that’s easy.)

What was really fun (and funny) was seeing aged, skeazy Latin guys try to hit on us and fail – especially where Tali was concerned. No one fucks with Tali, because her dad is the host. And no one wants to piss off the host and be thrown out, only to never be invited again. So, whenever an especially sleazy-looking guy would come up and do something that Tali wasn’t comfortable with, the three magic words were: “I’m (her dad’s name)’s daughter.” The next moment, he would lift his hands in defense and say “Whoa. Ok,” and walk away. It was glorious. And since Carrie and I were like his “adopted” daughters, as we would all joke, this carried over to us, as well.

And it was hard not to hit on Tali, I must say. When she danced, you couldn’t help but look because she was so beautiful – and coolest thing about her, was the fact that she didn’t know that. We used to have so much fun just dancing together, either in pairs and switch off, or just the three of us. Ah, the good ol’ days.

Haven’t been to a meeting since late May, but that one was sort of a disappointment – held at someone else’s place, and the feeling just wasn’t there anymore. The crowd had changed somewhat, the atmosphere had, too.

But, damn, was it fun to dance, anyway.

Now, where did I put my latin collection CD...

On Boredom.

Entertain me.

On More Boredom.

Well, am going to entertain myself - while boring everybody else to tears. Heh.

My space bags arrived today. Ha! I can now pack as much crap as I want - sweaters, pillow, etc. - and shrink it all down and pack it. Mwahahahahahahaha! I am clever, aren't I? I thought so. Hopefully, this will make my life much easier.

Guess what, guess what?! I'm getting new socks before I leave! I love new socks. I so understand Dumbledore's sentiment.

And my socks are all so mis-matched and old, anyway, that it just calls for it. So, hurrah for new socks.

Yes, my life is that exciting.

Talked to Sam, who really does hate his life. Wish I could help, wish I could do something, but I know that there's not much I can do, because it's for him to straighten out. But I can listen and talk and maybe point in the right direction. Maybe.

I did, in fact, have latkes today. Thought of you, yes. Heh.

So, my mother really has become a fangirl. She really wanted to show me a movie, for its cinematic merits, of course. Bah. But I humored her - after all, she's humored me before (*coughharrypottercough*). Actually, I was expecting something much worse - the movie actually is good. We haven't finished watching it yet, but it's quite interesting - especially from a historical perspective, if the Polish/Ukranian wars of the 1600's are of any interest to you, which they somewhat are to me. Ah, the time when having a mohawk was looked on as nothing out of the ordinary. *G*

The main character is quite hot himself - but then, I am biased towards Polish men. One of my very first crushes happens to have been Polish (still is, of course - Polish, that is). Ah, Pawel. How mature he seemed at 12, when I was but a mere 11-year old, who spoke no English and got kicked into the snow in front of him while waiting for a school bus.

Oy, the memories.

The last time I saw him, he was sixteen and extremely beautiful. Wonder how he's doing now... Not that it really matters, since he's back in Poland. Bah.

We have someone staying at our house for one - I hope... - night. It's weird. But at least I didn't get kicked out of my room again. *rolls eyes*

~*~

Melissa on writing R/S: they just fit.
Me: they do fit - in fact, i used that very line in one of my fics.
Melissa: askjkjka I worry about your "fitting"

~*~

LOL. Am I really that horrible?

Don't answer that. And just for the record, it was innocent. Innocent, people.

On that note, smuuuuuuuuuuut. Smut is good. Smut makes me happy.

You know what doesn't make me happy? Fandom wars and unneeded bitching. But I won't talk about that right now. 'Cause I don't feel like it.

EDITED: At 20, I should really know the difference between "historical" and "hysterical", but it is quite a freudian slip...