rhubarb

man, i need to stop writing these things late at night. I’m getting mahself all confused.
On Sunday, my friend Keth came by packed with her Final Fantasy game, an extra controller to pick me up to head to Andrew’s and Godmomas new place in San Jose. The meeting was a bittersweet one. We met to congratulate Andrew and Gunilla on their new apartment and to say goodbye to me.
I find it hard, in some strange and broken way, to come to the realisation that this week will be the final week I will be in the SF Bay Area. I sat talking with Caroline (Cathleen’s sister) the other night about my 2.5 years here, and in many ways, I can’t quite come to grips with knowing that what I’ve put myself through. I know, personally, that looking back through my discussions with her, that my own life seems so damn ridiculous. How you may ask I know, personally, that if someone related to me about what I’ve been through and what I’ve seen right back to me, I would have said “man, that chyk is on fucking drugs. she’s not trustworthy, independent nor is she even really COOL.” However, ones own assessment of themselves seems to be way harsher than reality. We had a fairly healthy debate about women in technology (ironically, it was four women and two men at the shin-dig) and my basic stance is this: while i believe in the fight for equality for all sexes, women need to stop bitching about what is “owed” and start proving that they are worthy of their own due. I cannot take feminism seriously as long as those who claim to fight for “women” end up reading Cosmo, Vogue and other mags when they are done at the end of the day. ’nuff said.
On that note, i actually got packed this evening — man — three boxes worth of crap and i haven’t hit books, CDs and clothing. I can’t believe how much toys, knickknacks and overall crap i’ve accumulated since i’ve been here.

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you know how it is. you start looking at one friends webpage, which means you go to another and yet another. fortunately, i knew two of the people and knew of the third.
two of the pages i quickly skimmed were of course journals. not to the extent of which i have written, but, journals nevertheless (how cool is it to say that i have entries going back to 1996?). Since I knew of the persons, at one time, fairly intimately, it seemed strange to read their entry and feel — nothing.
Not strange perhaps, but more of an “gosh, they got what they wanted — why can’t i?” kind of feeling. not one of jealousy per se, but one of “why is it always THEM that gets the goods and not me?” kind of deal.
Last night on the phone, Paul babbled for some time about music and how it affects us. The strange ironic part of the conversation was that earlier in the evening, Justin and I were on our way back from running errands and I was grooving to NiN’s new cd (which, ironies of ironies CDNow finally shipped two weeks AFTER and I had already went and purchased the cd since I had never received it). I loved watching the back windshield pound to the beat of the bass of “Even Deeper” and Justin looked at me and said “I just don’t get it.” I replied “Don’t get what?” and he said “Music. This does NOTHING for me”. Justin knew, since the beginning of our relationship nearly 2.5 years ago, that music was a huge HUGE mainstay in my life. I used it for many reasons. And there are songs — some of which I’ve stolen from people I’ve met and some i’ve conjured on my own, that makes sense to me. I need the music in my life in order to survive.
but that is not the point and neither is this really.
lately i’ve been feeling detached. i toyed today with ideas of things and nothing. and i’ve been spending like mad (3 lipsticks, 2 pairs of shoes, boots, 4 pairs of pants, 3 shirts, 4 pairs of tights, the checkbook is hurting!). Most people spend their cash on hardware — i look to outfit my wardrobe. I heart being a girl.
I am not copesetic on everything right now. in fact, i’m choosing NOT to think because it’s so much easier than thinking. It hasn’t dawned on me that i’m leaving in 2.5 days.