It's never too late.

And I mean flushed in the non-bathroom sort of way

Weighing my pockets with stones of longing

Especially when those days are Saturday and Sunday.

They always come crawling back

I went over to Theo's to watch Van Helsing. He left it for me as a Christmas present. Being with him felt very comfortable, just sitting on the futon in the dark. The movie, of course, was hilarious. At the end, we were being goofy and playful, and got into a pillow fight. Which led to wrestling around and tickling. And then pausing for a moment to realize how close we were to each other. We kept putting on special features from the DVD, but I think neither of us were really interested in watching them. Just before things might get awkward, one of us would hit/tickle the other so we could keep being in contact without feeling bad about it. It didn't get out of hand; I went home. It was hard to pull myself away, though, and I think this added to my confusion of the following weekend.

Distracted myself sufficiently throughout the week via two classes with the enthralling professor North. I also picked up a job, at the recommendation of Eva Posfay, translating some Rotary Club petitions for a man in the admissions office from French to English. I was really proud to do them, since they will get new roofing and toilets for a little village school in Togo. I'm taking Folkdance II this term, by myself without Suzy for the first time ever. It's wonderful. Everyone is so nerdy and enthusiastic, and we hold hands and jump around to fun music. It's pretty much the best activity I could imagine. Frequently, though, I wish Suzy were there. In the middle of the night this week, Sierra and I went out skating for an hour or so. Big flakes of snow were drifting around, making it a beautiful time to be out. And I didn't even fall down except on purpose. It's nice having time with her. I feel like getting to know her is somewhat hard, like I will never reach what she's really thinking sometimes. But whenever I do catch a glimpse, the more time I spend with her, the more I like her. Which is difficult to imagine, since I liked her so much in the first place. I feel like I will never be as close to her as Suzy is, but I can at least establish something. I guess sometimes I think of her like Zoe, like she would probably not count me among her "essential" friends, but that I still feel a strong attachment to her. So many people to admire in this world that I've been fortuante enough to meet...

Speaking of those, I got to see Kate some at our party this first weekend. She was wearing a gorgeous red sweater. I drank quickly and efficiently, and my hair was curly and my skirt was short and my optimism was high. As soon as I was sufficiently flushed, Kate and I laid down on the carpet and giggled together. She had to leave, though. I had an idea in my head, a dream of going home with Theo, and fixing things, since revelation had shown all my reasoning up to our break-up to be pointless and without substance. So I screwed up my courage (well, really the drink did it for me) and plopped myself down next to him on the floor to flirt and be nice. And promptly overheard him discussing me as his ex-girlfriend in a conversation with a boy I didn't know. I hadn't even thought to give him that title yet. So I bounced back up onto my feet and went into the other room, where I could still, against my will, hear their dialogue. I fiddled with things at my desk, pretending to straighten up, trying to keep control of my emotions which were as dizzy as my tipsy mind. Sierra came over for a moment when I was hiding in her corner and asked if I was okay. I said no, but that I would take care of myself. I did well, I think. Even when Theo went through the motions of inviting David home with him, and not me. Eventually through IM I got an invitation to come over, complete with smiley face, so I got a little boost before talking to him. In the end, though, my wishful thinking aside, Theo did what anyone with his strength in his position would do, and sent me home. As disappointed as I was, some part of me was convinced it had to be this way. Even if its only merit were to punish me for my mistake, which I know is not true. On the way home I felt like Gail from "Wet Hot American Summer," repeating to myself "Ex. He's my ex-boyfriend." The good thing about this was that now we had each broken up with each other, and there was no question of our status. Clearly, we were not dating. And I would survive without the comfort of ambiguity.

I had a plan for a costume for the Anything But Clothes party. One morning, I donned 8 layers and some hand-warmers and trudged down to the hardware store for materials. On the way back, I almost got killed by three different cars--two skidding, and one speeding at 40 mph through a stop sign. That Friday night I went to Clader to work on costumes with Hudson. We'd been e-mailing some toward the end of break and at the beginning of the term, and had chatted at Blue Monday one night. He's a funny kid, full of insecurities, but very straight-faced. Anyway, I hung out with him for a couple of hours, and he ended up with a ridiculously fabulous burlap and fur creation that, unfortunately, he didn't wear. I managed to super-glue my fingers to a lot of things, but otherwise I don't think I made too much of a fool of myself. I left in time to catch the late showing of Garden State with Sierra and Patrick and cried, of course. Got home, e-mailed a review of it to Hudson who had decided not to go, mused with Patrick about Nathalie Portman, and finally went to bed, thinking, as always, about love.

To cheer myself after the canceled trip to Wisconsin for the folk ball, I spent my morning figuring out harmonies for the song "Goodmorning, Starshine."
Hilde invited me to make garbage-bag dresses for the party, so I went and wore the shoes I'd made. We weren't there long, but it was good to get out. Spent some time watching the mass from the balcony, and I was actually kind of impressed with that image, faceless numbers all moving to the same beat like vibrations through a puddle.

I noticed in History class that week that Jean-Christophe and Ben, who sit together every day, have very similar teeth. I told Jean about it, and I think he found that kind of weird, with reason, admittedly...

Dreams lately have been characteristically bizarre. For one, I dreamt I was on an episode of The OC. I had a long tornado dream during which I was visiting my Malian host family. After the house got destroyed, my sisters and I hid in a bathtub that was then swept up and carried away. I was anticipating a rough and violent ending, but we landed rather smoothly next to a forest, where we found my host mom and the maid Saran. At the end of the dream, I made a comment about how everything has a little of God and a little of the Devil in it. That things that seem all God have some wickedness, and that things that seem all wicked have some God. I think I was trying to explain destructive phenomena like that. I was amazed that I remembered the French word for basement when I was in a panic to get my family to safety.

After my French dream, I dreamt about Jennifer Aniston trying to be funny. Don't ask, because I definitely do not have answers.

Then I dreamed about Theo. I dreamt that he and I were sitting together, and he leaned in and kissed me like we used to kiss--gentle and deep and passionate all at once until I couldn't feel gravity anymore. Then he broke away, said, "I'll see you Monday," and left.

I felt completely turned around. I wonder if it could mean something in the real world. Sometimes my dreams are quite prophetic. Then again... I also had a dream last night about pulling bunches of kleenex out of my nostrils. So maybe so much for that theory.

Backtracking--Endless dreaming at 11:00 p.m.
part five