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A couple days ago, I heard a thump as I walked by the next building over, and realized it was a squirrel when it tried to run up a brick wall to get away from me.

This one sex scene I'm trying to write is giving troubles, not the sex, but the emotions behind it.
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I haven't been getting enough sleep lately, the lure of TV is too powerful. Can't stop thinking about how this boy wants to date me and how I am not sure how to feel about this. I never thought of him like that. I never think about friends like that. This morning I forgot my phone under my pillow and wrote a math test. This pretty much describes the state of my day. Now: off to the post office and then for some Chinese food to make me feel better with the sweet buzz of MSG.
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Today made up for its warmth with its gusts and windiness. I still can't find anything to say to mom. I went to the library and got books. The True Blood book I got picks up where the end of S1 left off. Score! I have Sookie Stackhouse PDFs. CSE homework. And a math test on Tuesday.
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During a trip to India, my friend Jeff paid a boatman to row him out into the Ganges River for a little recreational cruise. When they got there, the boatman stopped and refused to move, let alone row him back to shore, unless Jeff forked over a surcharge. Don't let something like that happen to you in the coming week, Cancerian. Always have a well-planned arrangement, agreed on in advance, to come back from wherever you're brave enough to go. Be experimental, yes. Explore new territory, yes. Be willing to surrender some control, yes. But make sure you've got a return ticket.
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I can't believe that it's only been a few days because it feels like forever by now. I've done so much in the past few days. I fucking hate the keyboard in this shitty hotel. Of course Taglit Israel would put us up in the shittiest hotel possible. I understand this. I am a Jew too. Israel is amazing. I like it here. It's very warm. I haven't been cold once. And it seems like everyone in Tel Aviv speaks Russian. It's a bit mind boggling. A few more days to go. I don't know half of my group's names. AAAAAAAAAAAAAAh.
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When in doubt, I just listen to The Shins and call it a good day if I manage to finish all my math homework.
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Lately, I feel as though I cannot properly string a sentence together. All the mechanics and semantics are there, in my head, but they all come out sounding clunky. This, in part explains my great dread for the coming semester and school in general.
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Being in college makes me want to do nothing more than live in a weathered, sun bleached shack by the sea. And never have to wear a heavy coat again.

Though I do love snow.
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Another night of no homework done, and watching Firefly, which continues to be amazing. And in the morning, I saw frost at the bottom of driveways and tops of cars, and wished for snow.
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Today, I walked by the billiards room and saw a boy wearing this shirt. My life is now complete.
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Oh, My. Gosh. Why did I not get into Firefly years ago? Everything Joss Whedon does is brill and amazing. And there's like five more discs to get through. Yay.

Also, because I am not, and never will be a grown up, I've gotten my mom to ship me my bunny, Benny. I'll probs post pics when she arrives. She is like...my only comfort object ever.
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I had intelligent thoughts in class today. I remember that I did. Then I wandered around North Campus, trying to find a way to walk to the skating rink, which is literally in sight from the campus. The path is bisected by about six highways and a fence. Clearly, Buffalo is a car city.

So, disappointed, I came home and read porn for hours.
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What I've learned in college so far is how to play pool, how to play ping-pong. I've reaffirmed my belief that people try too hard to be someone they're not. I've found lots of bars but not many bookstores. And I've sort of gotten familiar with the campus. I wish I'd gone to St. John's College instead. Buffalo's not a very good place to live, unless you were born here. I won't stay on after college, I think.

I found a copy of The History of Love online, and to reward myself for finishing a directionless essay, I'm going to read it on Tuesday and weep a lot. That's what I'm mostly looking forward to.

I wish, as always, that people would be more open and talkative in class discussions, so that I would not feel like the loudmouth/know-it-all Hermione type so much.

I have a ton of homework and not much human interaction, and am looking for a job. So far, nothing. I miss working, the independence that having a steady paycheck gives. And I know that my mother cannot send money. It kind of makes the need to be settled and financially secure more pressing.

And yet, I still think about packing up a few pairs of jeans, some tshirts and my comfortable sneakers and a sleeping bag, and just...wandering around the country. Then around Canada. Maybe I never will. Maybe I'll always fantasize about bolting. But never actually do it.
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I am giving myself permission to hate the first year of college. I hated the first year of high school, after all. Perhaps I should not speak so much. Whenever I do, things tend to go downhill. I want to run away and do something else. I am wondering if college is really the path to success that everyone says it is. If maybe that's not the path to success for me. I want to be a chef, or a restaurant manager.

Or maybe I am just scared senseless about moving to a new place, cause the last time I did, I was too small to freak out about it like this. Back then I didn't know the meaning of the word emo. Maybe I hate this feeling of nothing all day, living from book to book and not much else going on. Of a ticking noise in the back of my head that sounds like 'three weeks left till your life begins Ren.' Maybe I'm assessing the entirety of my life and realizing that I've been a C student throughout all of it, and college will be exactly the same. And I'll still be vaguely miserable. But mostly not.

I am realizing that maybe I am not meant to be with Movie Boy. *sigh*
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It's my birthday today, and sunny-gorgeous in Buffalo.

Already, this is a better day than last year's birthday was. I've discussed this with people, I think.

A lot of people left me Facebook comments wishing me happy birthday, and the girls on my floor too. There's some almost-end-of CADS party that we're all suppposed to go to later, and I guess that's the celebration enough. It feels just like any other day would anyway, cause I'm at college, but I don't feel any more grown up.

It's pretty cool to think that I've gotten through this summer program, which is sort of like an entire semester squished into three weeks. It's really hard, but at least I know the campus now. The worst thing, I think, is that there's no real privacy in the dorms. Maybe in a few years I'll be getting my own place. Until then, I guess I'l learn to tolerate sharing a shower with a bunch of other girls.

Anyway, I had a point originally.

Birthday. Right. It's going fine. When I accomplish something worth celebrating, perhaps things will feel different.

I am reading the seventh Harry Potter book and it feels just like it did at the very beginning. That good and new and amazing.
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1. First day of classes was long. Too long. Classes are stupid.

2. It is too damn hot in the dorms.

3. The girls on my floor are all really nice.

and a half: there is probably no way I can get off campus to see the 5th HP movie in a day. Arg!

Have not taken pictures yet. Really should, if only I could get camera to work.
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Am in Buffalo. Buses here suck. I need a car. Or a bike. Or a boyfriend with a car.

Mom is fun to travel with, except for the part where she says "Ah, I have a question" before asking every question. And also how she doesn't really get half of what's going on. Neither do I, for that matter.

My roommate seems nice.

The campus here is huge. HUGE. I've walked around a lot today.

I hatehatehate that I really don't know anyone.

I need to visit the dollar store that we passed on the metro. There's probably crap that I forgot to bring.
See also: cheap laundromat.
See also: funky coffeeshop with free wireless.
See also: Niagara Falls for shopping.
See also: Toronto.

Apparently, there's fucking nothing to do on campus, especially in the summer. No wonder everything I've heard about this place involves drinking. I found the campus bookstore though. It made my little heart sing in glee to find it. Even though everything's way overpriced.

Finished Choke, by Chuck Plahniuk on the train. It was rather depressing, but ended on a happy note. The only one of the entire book.
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So, way back when, I used to read all these fics and most were crap. A few were passable. A rare one or two were absolutely brilliant.

The others are simply amusing and cracked out.

Like the one where Justin moves to NYC, and he gets an apartment in Brooklyn, where all his neighbors speak Spanish. Brian comes to visit, and the first words out of his mouth are 'God, your apartment's tiny' and the second thing is, in Spanish, "let's fuck". And then Justin corrects him on conjugation, since he's been babysitting for Maria next door, playing pattycake with little Angela and learning basic Spanish.

Or the one where Rodney needs a wife to round out his perfect image, but ends up falling for John, his relationship counselor instead.

Or the one where Draco runs away from England, and opens a Chinese restaurant in Budapest.

I don't come across much like that, anymore.

And I don't help much, cause I don't really write like that either. They say you should write what you'd like to read, but I can't seem to do that. Cause there's a difference between what I want to read and what I end up writing.

But I don't know what the hell I'm complaining about because the books I am going to read are piled five deep, in two piles, and I cannot imagine a better thing.
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So. I am writing a packing list for orientation in my head. I am flirting with the boy in my own way, so ninja sneaky that he likely can't tell when I am. Or maybe I am stupidly obvious. I am still not okay with the fact that no one will likely love me the way Odysseus loved Penelope.

I am going to fill the bits of summer that I am home with friends and family. They're kind of like crusts of time that sandwich this great big orientation in July that I am r. hyped for. I am going to take lots of pictures so that I'll be able to remember how things used to be, while I am hurtling toward the future.

Earda's getting me a framed picture of us for graduation. And half of a best friend necklace*. Because I requested a cheap and tacky one. It will not be cheap nor tacky because that is not in her vocabulary. And that's okay.

*I used to sneer at girls who wore those things, back when Dara was my only friend. Now that I have great friends, I want one. It will probably end up like this with relationships as well.

...

Am so sleep deprived, but don't really care. This summer will be rad. I'll make it that way.
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