fighting windmills...

     this is the first time i've sat down to write in i can't remember how long. well, since the last post, i suppose. there's a lot to talk about when you don't update for three weeks. once again i don't really have a lot going on, yet i find myself flustered when i run out of time for things. like writing. so i decided that i was just going to sit down and do it. so here i am. i just purchased and watched stranger than fiction. great movie. british accents inspire me. i don't know why. i think it's the way the language just rolls off their tongues in fluid and witty ribbons of thought that makes me want to do the same.

     so what's new? what's different? not much, really. i'm still the same old, hopeless single destined to be forever a dreamer. did i leave out that i'm also slightly melodramatic? or neurotic? huh. well, i was fortunate enough to go see cats with a friend a few weeks ago. then last thursday i went with the same friend to see man of la mancha, which is, probably, my favorite play. both were on campus and both were excellent. i kinda miss doing that. yes, i used to act back in the day. or at least i tried. let's see, anything else exciting? yesterday i was driving home from campus and a cop suddenly did a u-turn and followed me for about two miles. i had been speeding just slightly. actually, i'm not sure what the limit is on that road, but i really wasn't going fast...probably around 35-40. so i was a little nervous for those two miles, going exactly the speed limit (we had turned onto a road that i knew what the limit was), until he turned off on a side street. five minutes later i was standing in blockbuster, ready with three dollars to pay an overdue fee, and the guy behind the counter told me that when they checked the movie in the night before (two days late) they must have missed that it was late because my account was clear. so i got out of a ticket and a late fee. i was happy. then i went home.

     i don't really have an end to that story. i know i made it sound like "then i went home" was kind of an end to the happiness. i will neither confirm nor deny that thought. i don't know. i wish i had answers. or a focus--kinda like a quest. i definitely want to enjoy the trip through the tunnel, but i can't really see the light at the end of it to know if i'm in the right one. and i'm still fighting my windmills--the giants that often turn into something else right at the last minute. i feel kind of ridiculous, actually, like don quixote with his shaving basin, trotting about looking for his dulcinea and hoping that things could be made right in the world. a lunatic. i think my friends are starting to see me as that, too. i feel like i'm the one people tolerate out of charity or something. like they can't wait to be rid of me. i'm a bit old-fashioned and don't really speak the same language or have the same goals. funny that don quixote dies at the end, surrounded by people and still alone--a crazy old man. stupid windmills.

     to each his dulcinea.

     so i found a new hobby. i kinda like it, actually, and i'm not bad at it (though i'm not sure how anyone cold be). i've almost finished the first--it will be about two and a half weeks in the making. i feel like i'm wasting my time, though. i should be writing. gah! i need to do that right now.

     and nothing happened on valentine's day. i promised an update, so there it was. we went to a basketball game. how fun.

     feeling lonely.

     ok, so i'm going to go write now. hope you all have a good week.