Tonight I wanted to write, and to complain about the normalacy of life, but now that I have just put down The Time Traveller's Wife I am sleepy, and tired, and not much good except for stubborness.
The Time Traveller's Wife was not a good book; it took me a long time to understand it, and I had to be patient, which I do not like to be when I am reading. At the end, when I had come to understand it, it made me sad, and lonely for the protagonists. What a cold word. Technicality exists, and is good in its place, but tonight I do not wish to broach technicality. I want to say I was sad for the lovers.
I will write because I promised myself I would, that I would write for you. Tonight I believe that I update about the silly, mundane things in my life not just because I love writing, which I do, love the endless words spilling out silly bubbles bubbling in blather (not) and they fellowship with me and I feel better after we talk. It sounds strange, and I am uneasy at my phrasing but I will keep what I just said. And then go on with what I am trying to say. That when I write, I write for you, my reader. because I want you to love me better, and I think maybe that if I wrote about myself you would know me better and in knowing me, I would know you too.
Sometimes I am scared you read me critically, and think I am mediocre, a word that scares me. But I try anyway. I fiddle around with words, looking for the best one so that you might like what I say. I feel like a child standing before her father and confessing her latest deed, that she read through his boring, boring books, and feeling stupid all the time she is saying it, without knowing why she is feeling stupid, and stupidest of all, why she is telling her father, at all.
I think she wants her daddy to see behind the whats of what she did, and recognise that what she is saying really is, daddy, daddy dear, I love you.
What I have been doing: Printing notes, playing bubble breaker, walking unsteadily down the stairs, and playing ultimate frisbee. I think I am addicted a little, to bubble breaker. I am afraid of walking down stairs because there is a problem with my ability to perceive depth in things that look the same, if I am afraid now what of fifty years later, when I am seventy one? Right now stairs are tricky things, my eyes tense and suddenly I cannot tell the lower stair from the one I am now on. So I hold the rails tighter. Maybe I will be braver, or maybe my husband will not mind walking slowly with me. I do not want my husband to die before me, I do not want to die after I am married, if I have to die please let it be before I am married, or in love. Or is it wrong to ask? Perhaps. I do not know what I want, after all. Alright, I take it back.
An in-between out-of-joint in-the-middle-of-nowhere statement: I shall cut my hair in bangs, shortly before I leave. If I look nice you will miss me, and if I don't I'm off to an inconsequential land. Snide, I know. I think I am denying in dislike. Perhaps I am prejudiced against them westerners.
Otherwise- I had a good time at ulty today, the others were silly and I felt happy. Often I feel so young in different ways. In terms of experience level (and I get so vexed at myself), but mostly in terms of age/ these are working adults and they see me as a little girl in pigtails, they are fond of me and talk to me like I am a girl-child. They tell me that I am so cute, pat my head and call me naive and idealistic. Or else they bully me, and use my name as a substitute when telling blonde jokes. Which is fine, I suppose, I live with labels various people paste on me to make understanding self better, it's just, every so often I pinch myself and remind me that hello rachel, you are -i am- all of twentyone. I think I'm a big girl. oh, I almost forgot to go on. Tonight I caught two silly discs, and was part of a funny plot that involved all the guys stacked vertically for sillystance, since sarah was supposed to make the first cut and then huck one to me. All the main points in the plan were excecuted, and I caught the disc praying hard all the time since my contact lens was blurry, and I couldn't see anything futher than two metres. But adam hucked, and it landed nicely in my arms with janice far behind. Although, she could have caught up and d.ed my disc, but she didn't, so I suppose score one more for me. haha. I'll stop boring/regaling you with my tales. The point is, we were laughing and they were joking after that, and I knew I was part of it, was included, something which happens so rarely for me. Let me just postscript this paragraph by announcing my exuberance: I got to pull!!! (that's three exclaimation marks for you. When was the last time you saw me use three exclamination marks?) Gratitude to adam, who announced he thought that I should pull, bless his white western heart, and to the rest, who generously agreed. And I pulled quite well! yay to rachel. big big smile.
oh, I just need to get my technicalities (again) on throwing right. I'll write more about it one day. I've been meaning to, but not yet.
By way of goodnight: Today I learnt a new word, while mmming over superb lint chocolate with liquid centers. These are very much like the ones ben bought for me when we were delinquenting at heeren, packaged for us in a pleasing prim white plastic bag that said prestige, which were the yums. guangyou taught weiliang and I, while weiliang was in bed and being hilarious in his bleariness. nonce. loveit. I love how guangyou loves words, and the way he teaches them with such obvious enjoyment. Should have been an english major, this one, and till today I wish he was. English classes would have been tons better with him. For that matter, I like hanging out with guangyou and weiliang, although times with them have been too far, and too few. I have to take photos with them before I leave. The D4 guys, I will miss. And I hate it when people don't miss me back.
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