please.

sarah and richard, come back.
please.

silly girl

home again, home again.

"the wise thing to do is to prepare for the unexpected."

i couldn't sleep last night. i think i received a grand total of four hours. espeically considering i was in bed for close to eight hours, the percentage of actual sleep is not happy. i even walked around my dark, quiet house for awhile at four in the morning. i just couldn't stop thinking. stop worrying. stop wondering. i couldn't stop planning. stop questioning. stop replaying. i couldn't stop asking. stop being frustrated. stop smiling. i couldn't stop wishing. stop rolling my eyes. stop imagining. i couldn't stop praying.

we'll see. we'll see.

i will be in the presence of two of my favorite people in the whole wide world in less than twenty-four hours. sarah and richard, hurry. be safe driving, but hurry.

i'm a silly, silly girl.

oi

i blushed more times than i could count talking to debbie this afternoon. i couldn't even look at her. she called it confession time. oi. i don't usually blush. it takes a lot to throw me off. new goal: no more blushing.

rewind. play. rewind. play. fast forward.

i wished on an eyelash and blew it away.

i am one tired cookie. i think i will go take a bath and then climb into my cozy bed and dream, dream the night away.

i was wrong

i locked myself in my bedroom today. certain that if i stopped spinning, so would the earth. certain that if i refused to look at the sun, it wouldn't be day. certain that if i stopped ticking, so would the clock. i was wrong.

a little affirmation was all i needed. so thank you.

you know what sucks about honesty? it makes you vulnerable. and you know what sucks about vulnerability? it makes you open for getting hurt. and you know what sucks about getting hurt? it makes you feel stupid for being honest.

and yet...knowing this, i continue to be honest. knowing this, i give you a little more every time. and today, i think that maybe i won't feel stupid in the end.

my least favorite part of being a woman: cramps.

now

i can't even tell you how many times i have said "shit" and "no" in the last five minutes. so yeah, i thought i had until midnight to complete this past week's online class assignments. turns out it was due at midnight--as in the midnight that has already come and gone. it was only half completed. shit. oh well, i am tired. i could care less. i have cried today. i have taken a two hour nap. and i have tried to escape into the world of magic--harry potter, that is. it's not like i am going to fail the class or anything. i just...i just kind of wanted to do good. but right now, i think i want to go get back in bed more. fuck it.

rachael sent me an e-card that pretty much said i am nice and that she had fun hanging out with me last night. i had a lot of fun hanging out with her too. i don't usually get told i'm nice. i am usually told i am mean. so, it was a happy, welcomed change.

i actually enjoyed my macroeconomics class today. i thought it was interesting. weird, huh?

i am so exhausted that crying is easy. or maybe i am so exhausted because i have been crying so easily.

sarah and richard in five days.
goodbye to fort worth in twenty days.

tired girl

i have spent the last forty-eight hours with family--some of which i hadn't seen in three years. they have fed me. jaimie has photographed their faces and feet. and i am now going to pass out from exhaustion. but wait, i have a zillion of pages to read and problem sets to finish and comments to post. sigh. i am happy jaimie drove up to fort worth, but i think the girl was trying to kill me. or maybe she was hired by sarah in hopes i would fail my classes and have to be in school this fall.

funny story: i got an "a" on my first macroeconomics test.

i have three weeks left in fort worth. three weeks. i haven't seen friends since thursday, which is oddly okay. i should get used to not seeing them often anyways.

my eyes want to close.

i couldn't fall asleep until after one this morning. i was thinking about emails received and emails sent. i was thinking about what cities i would like to live in. i was thinking about why i would want to live in them. i was thinking that maybe i am not as brave and gutsy as people say i am. i was thinking it would be easier if i just went home now and never came back. i was thinking it is not better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all. i was thinking they won't know the difference. i was thinking that i need to fall asleep because i have to get up in the morning. i was thinking about "what if" and asking "why not." i was thinking about God's laughter. i was thinking my baby sister is not a baby.

this morning

is it weird to email someone you are just friends with and ask for his ex-girlfriend's email address because you thought she was a cool person and think it would be a lot of fun to hang out with her? is it really all that weird? on a scale of one to ten? ten being super-crazy-don't-do-it weird.

i don't think it's fair that men can drive without shirts on but women cannot. i have seen two of these men in the last week. one at night after it was dark and the other this morning on my way to school. it wasn't like it was extremely hot. and it wasn't like these guys were underwear models or anything. though, that would be more interesting. smile.

from the portrait of a lady by henry james--presently with me at all times:
"not in the least. young girls here--in decent houses--don't sit alone with the gentlemen late at night."
"you were very right to tell me then," said isabel. "i don't understand it, but i'm very glad to know it."
"i shall always tell you," her aunt answered, "whenever i see you taking what seems to me too much liberty."
"pray do; but i don't say i shall always think your remonstrance just."
"very likely not. you're too fond of your own ways."
"yes, i think i'm very fond of them. but i always want to know the things one shouldn't do."
"so as to do them?" asked her aunt.
"so as to choose," said isabel.

locks of love

my hair is short. like short-short. not quite felicity short, but dude, it has never been this short before. i cut off over ten inches. and it was kind of on a whim. i mean, i had been growing it out for locks of love, but i had no idea when i woke up yesterday morning that by three in the afternoon it would be gone. the hair dresser even said, "are you sure you want to do this? do you want to wait a couple more months and then come back?" but i said, "what the hell? just cut it now." and rachael was my beautiful witness. i wonder sometimes what my friends think of my "what the hell" attitude? even sarah said she couldn't believe i had done it. am i really that surprising? i have always wanted to be mysterious, but i talk way too much for that. but even richard said i am mysterious because what i do or what i say can be surprising. hmm. i don't know. maybe i just get bored easily. or maybe it is never that surprising to me because i really do think before i act, but don't express those thoughts sometimes until i am just about to act or have already acted. maybe that's it.

oh, and i really do like my hair short. i look perkier or happier or something. and my head is really light. and when i dance my hair bounces. and when i wake up in the morning it sticks straight up and makes me laugh. but i was colder than usual in the library today. so that kind of sucks.

behind my eyelids

the room went black.
i think i will lock it up. and throw away the key.
it is overrated.
i could press stop. eject.
it is the fear. the fear of the unknown.

my heart went cold.
i think i will boil the joy. and let it melt away.
it is just a game.
i could lose. not play.
it is the doubt. the doubt that chains someone.

the fire went out.
i think i will revel in snow. and mock the purity.
it is a hard freeze.
i could create icicles from tears.
it is the fall. the fall slitting my throat.

my voice went mute.
i think i will not sing again. and hide in the silence.
it is my choice.
i could dig my grave. sweet bed.
it is the dark. the dark behind my eyelids.

la la la

when i have so much work to do, why is it so easy not to care? maybe because i secretly wish sarah's wish would come true. my parents would kill me. they'd kill me.

i read "the yellow wallpaper" by charlotte perkins gilman today for the second time. i hate reading it, because i know what it feels like. i know what it feels like to lie in bed and know something is desperately wrong. to lie in bed and experience a world that scares me shitless. to pretend there is nothing wrong and to be told that nothing is wrong and to scream inside and write short, choppy paragraphs trying to escape what i can't control. but what controls me.

macroeconomics test tomorrow. do you see me? do you see me not giving a damn?

happy birthday, mom-mommy.

yeah, so i want to read the sixth harry potter book again. but i have promised to lend it to debbie. probably for the best.

for someone with no regrets, i sure play the "what if" game a lot.

how many more days before sarah comes back? too many if it's not today. and it's not.

it has been awhile.

dreams visited by God.
emails.
talks to best friends so far away, but always close.
watching a crane lift and carry two port-a-potties from one destination to another.
three new cds. i have a problem. that's the first step, right? i've tried the patch. but it just didn't help. i'm addicted to music.
i figured.
swimming with debbie and lucy, the little fish.
talks with my aunt.
two new pairs of pajamas that my aunt insisted on buying me.
laughing hysterically with rachael.
harry potter number six. purchased by 12:08 am saturday. finished sunday at 4:38 pm. oh. my. gosh. it's ridiculous.
talking to jason longer than one minute per year. my heart's happy as i see them holding hands.
i have one shoe. one perfect shoe. one day i hope i have the pair.
thunderstorms all weekend. ah, beautiful.
orgasm talks with friends.
letting go.
there's a new standard. there's a lot to live up to. because i have the best of the best.
honesty.

expecting nothing. and receiving something.

always unpredictable. i've decided i like predictability.
an e-card from rachael asking me out on a date.

i should be more like the squirrel

happy birthday, jaimie.
as i sat outside, i noticed the perfect little turtle my four-year old cousin hannah had drawn yesterday on the sidewalk. it made me smile.
"be like the squirrel, girl. be like the squirrel. oh, oh, oh, oh, oh. give it a whirl, girl. be like the squirrel." good advice, white stripes. i should be more like the squirrel.
i have the itch. i need to go to a concert. bad.
i didn't want to get out of bed this morning. i wasn't surprised. this is now a regular occurrence.
i had another God-damn dream. fuck it. no more.
my brain is not a macroeconomics brain.
it's okay if you don't understand. it's okay if you don't have anything to say. i'd rather you didn't get it. i'd rather you didn't say anything at all.
is it too early to go to sleep?
holding hands. talking. laughing. knowing.
i wonder if abby now has an apartment in new york. the city's great, right?
it just makes it worse.
fuck.
i want to write something else. i want to say something else. but i can't. i need to, but i just can't find the words.
i'm twenty-two. that's too young to give up.
i wish i wasn't so overdramatic.
i wish i wasn't so outspoken.
i wish people would stop overestimating me.
lucy gave me kisses over the phone. we are bff's.
maybe i should send my two week friend notices. i am sorry. lindsay will no longer be able to participate in this friendship. she is tired. and frustrated. and psycho. and...and...doesn't deserve it.
please don't comment. not to this post.

it terrifies me

it terrifies me that you are reading this.
it terrifies me that you're not.
that i can't fake it anymore.
that this is it.
that i lost.
that maybe i'll never win.
that life would go on.
that no one would notice.
that they would.
that i am losing control.
that maybe i never had it.
that i hurt myself.
that i believe the lies.
that i forget they're lies.
that you make me happy.
that i just want to sleep. and sleep. and sleep.
that i can't escape.
that i could.
that maybe i was wrong.
that i was right.
that maybe i deserve better.
that i have fooled you all.
that i will never talk to you again.
that i picture it.
that i pray for it.
that i beg and plead and cry for it.
that i thank You for not listening.
that i am too much.
that i am too little.
it terrifies me that you are reading this.
it terrifies me that you're not.

almost

i almost went and bought a bottle of tequila.
i almost believed i was happy.
i almost let go of the wheel.
i almost cried.
i almost got over it.
i almost thought i was strong.
i almost wished sarah would have sent the sentence.
i almost drove home.
i almost don't care.
i almost ran out of gas.
i almost believed i had conquered this.
almost.

what did i do?

what did i do? i must have done something incredible. if i believed in past lives, i would conclude i must have saved the world or found a great cure or brought peace to the universe or was completely selfless and sacrificed this past life for some greater cause. seriously, what did i do to deserve such amazing friends? i am in awe right now. my heart is happy and my eyes are teared with joy. these brilliant, brilliant people choose to be my friend, choose to love me. i must have been really, really good. or done something really, really right. or maybe God is just really, really good. maybe God is just really, really right. and maybe when you pray that you don't want to be alone for the rest of your life, God opens your eyes, even gives you a little shake, and says, "silly lindsay, you are not alone. you will never be alone."

richard called me today to say he is driving to fort worth tomorrow to visit me. why? because he misses me. because he loves me. because he is a best friend. i didn't ask him to. he just wants to. i'm not on a list, something to cross off, something to deal with. i'm his friend. and he cares about me. and i bow my head, close my eyes, and whisper, "thank You so much. thank You so much."

morning

i didn't want to get out of bed this morning. not because i was tired. i wasn't. not because i was sad. i wasn't. i didn't want to get out of bed, because i knew i had to. this rebellious nature i have is starting to be annoying. live in the moment, linds. live in the God-damn moment. stephani, i hope you are having more luck with this than i am.

so today in my poetry class, this older woman who sits behind me says, "lindsay, you are the voice of reason." and later, "lindsay, i am so happy you are in this class. you make it so fun. you are so honest. not many people are like that." my thought, "tell me about it. i think i am too honest for my own good." but the fact i can openly discuss menstruation and the negative effects of the monthly period in a class full of strangers (half of which are guys) made me realize how much i love the fact that i am me. i love that i am brave. and honest. and have a take it or leave it attitude. i love that my face rarely turns red from embarrassment. i love that i have opinions. intelligent ones. and i love that i am gutsy enough to express them. share how i feel. because, hell, that's me. it's just me.

for sarah

i talked to sarah for over two hours today. and the only reason i got off the phone was because i knew i would talk to her again tomorrow.
i wish i could go on our road trip. i really, really do.
i feel better. i feel happy. i feel loved. i feel special.
thanks for starting the bitch slapping brigade.
pool house, it is.
and lots and lots of puppies.
"why did you kill me, mommy?"
the only boy we're talking to is richard. we like richard. richard stays.
come. no one would ever have to know. seriously.
how mad do you think my parents would be if i took off two weeks before graduation?
maybe tonight we won't dream at all.
i don't want to be fifty before my dreams come true.
you're the best listener.
i just miss you.
we're mean. we're talkative. we're funny as hell. and we don't care if we're the only ones laughing.
grrrrrr.
one funny email and one mean email coming up.
i'll talk to you tomorrow.

thunderstorm

i wonder how many of my friends know that i love to sit in the midst of a thunderstorm. it is probably on my top five favorite things to do. i didn't go to school today. i couldn't think of any good reason to get out of bed. and then around nine o'clock as i laid in my bed trying to sleep away, well, everything really, i heard thunder and noticed my bedroom was a little darker. so i jumped out of bed and made my way to the backyard. and i thought...

inhale. exhale. i love the smell of rain. i want the thunderstorm to take me with her. i pray for this. i close my eyes, and the wind lifts my hair. and for a moment i believe she has lifted me off my chair, and i am flying away. inhale. exhale. i love the smell of rain. drops of water cover the goosebumps on my legs. lightning strikes the ground close by so that the thunder sounds as i see the flash. i'm not scared. i just wish he had struck me instead. inhale. exhale. i love the smell of rain. the rain falls faster. i think that there is no way the aliens from signs would have survived on earth with rain falling like this. what were they thinking? inhale. exhale. i love the smell of rain. the trees wave at me, and i start to cry. i just want to be alone. why don't they know that? stop waving. stop waving. i'm not going to wave back. inhale. exhale. i love the smell of rain. warm tears collide with cold raindrops. i feel...i feel...i feel like an idiot. to think, i actually thought someone would like me back. inhale. exhale. inhale. exhale. i love the smell of rain.

2003 erin hills ct.

i have a three-pound, six week old, black and white cocker spaniel on my lap. her name is liberty (libby for short). she is my new friend.

i have decided. i am going to move to omaha, marry tim kasher, and have little chemically imbalanced alcoholics.

i don't like having this feeling of hope.

i woke up this morning forgetting where i was, and then had an overwhelming amount of joy come over me when i realized i was at home in my bedroom. here the love is unconditional. here i am safe.

for lunch today, my family and i ate at hobbit hole cafe. i had the gandalf sandwich. it was yummy for my vegetarian tummy.

i have my phone with me--just in case.

i love my dad. compared to him, no one will ever be good enough. i now have too high of a standard for what a man is or should be.