My turkish, muslim roommate is standing at the door arguing with an african american southern baptist who showed up with a hand drawn cartoon about hell and sinning. They've been standing in the doorway for a half an hour and the heat is pouring in. I think they should go to Denny's or something.

Whenever I see a cluster of girls walking down the strip in strapless dresses, I wonder if I'm missing out on something. It seems like that's what you do in college- go to class in gym shorts during the day, roll your eyes at teachers, complain about stress, gulp down energy drinks, and go out drinking and and searching for a short-term sex partner at night. It didn't work out for me like that. I spend a lot of time practicing and eating meals alone, and when I'm not doing that, I'm spending time with my "serious" boyfriend. It's working out though, and I've done a good job of convincing myself that my life is somehow more meaningful this way. It's probably not, but I feel pretty good about my ability to walk down the street all alone in my practical shoes.

Personality really shines through when somebody is playing music. People who listen carefully in conversations also listen carefully when playing music with others. People who crack jokes constantly also play with a sense of humor. And people who are aggressive and insensitive often play that way. I wonder what my playing reflects.

School is back in session. Nothing to say about that, other than it's pretty hot to cart around a cello in between several different buildings. The music building is almost completely torn down now, and all the music majors are fascinated with the process. Every day I hear somebody say "Man! They tore down the band room closet today. Everything is so crazy." I don't really care. Despite playing music in that building for nine years, I don't feel particularly attached to it. I've always loved moving. I guess people people get sentimental about different things. There are certain songs that are hard for me to listen to because they bring me back to a really specific time and person. I won't mention names, but most of them are dudes. I'll have itunes on shuffle, and it will come to that song and my heart will skip a beat. But that's the only thing. I'm tough.

Max is leaving for college. I guess I'm a little emotional about. He'll only be two hours away though... I probably won't see him any less that before. All these thoughts keep running through my head like "Did I hit him too much when we were younger" "Did calling him stupid all the time destroy his confidence" "Do we actually look alike?" "Is this it? Are we grown up?" "Will we move to opposite sides of the country after school and see each other once a year for a holiday that means nothing to me?"
I was feeling fine until I just asked those questions. So much for letting it all pour out.

I'm sitting in a hot dorm room right now. The fan is blowing on me, the floor is filthy, I'm not practicing, I'm spying on everybody walking to the library, my armpits are sweating, I'm poking my belly wondering if I gained weight over the summer, and I'm wondering why I have to be so self-absorbed all the time. Maybe because I don't watch the news.

zoe did this

San Francisco is weird.
Thad an I slept in a closet, just like Harry Potter. With the window open it was cold and it reminded me how nice it is to have a warm body next to me when cold air is surrounding me.
I like his body. I am constantly grabbing, holding, pushing, and pulling it.