The last thing I wrote looks really stupid

But at least I can renege. Is that spelled right? I've never used it in writing.

I cleaned my room today and I feel much better inside it. However, I really think my roommate needs to completely clean his part before the room can really be clean again.

Meanwhile, eye contact tells you a lot, but it never helps you learn more, um, and by that I mean specifically what I want to know. Random eye play in places on campus makes me want more. than eye play. Hopefully I see that person again. Hopefully he sees me. I get the feeling he will anyway. But after that? Never been there before.

In any case, I've been wanting to run, but I've been waiting to adjust to the 35-50 degree cold before I start. I've been playing DDR every other day, at least. But that probably won't go on for much longer, and I won't have much access to DDR in the summer (apparently, and at least not cheap or free DDR) so I'm going to have to get one of those things that you can put mp3 players in and strap around your wrist/arm for when you run on a treadmill in some sweaty, boring gym somewhere. I learned that the place that I'm going is apparently a college that expects its students to be grounded in the Christian faith. MY BAD

No, but really, that's kind of what I like about Tufts as opposed to the Prep?

Anyway, this might be a boring 2 months over there. The project won't be boring but the everything else might be, unfortunately. My plan to make up for all this not being in Massachusetts bullshit I'm planning is to be at Tufts for the summer between junior and senior year, and I hope you guys plan likewise. I'll certainly be there for the senior year and for the breaks that I get when I'm abroad, and I can visit colleges for sure if the breaks don't align like the stars do.

In the context of the present now, I'm pretty thrilled. I'm starting to feel better, look better (dare I say it?), think better, chill better, joke better, step better, walk better, but not sleep better, as the spring rolls along. We can get the sleep part fixed. The rest of it is awesome, and I'm pretty excited. I'm living it up now because I won't be able to do so with everyone I know when I'm in Hillary's second favorite state or another continent. Honestly, I'm kind of wary about things changing drastically after I've gone abroad. But I can probably deal with it all. Greg, à Paris! Interdit de stop

Something happened yesterday that I never thought would ever happen. Have you noticed the weird mole thing that was on the left side of my neck? It's gone. Well, the globular part of it that stuck out kind of loosely from my skin, anyway. I ripped it off accidentally: one swipe from putting a shirt on, another from trying to itch the back of my head with my shoulder, gone. It bled profusely, but it didn't hurt at all. It's funny. I thought that if that thing were to ever come off, it would hurt like fuck, like the end of the world. Well, it came off. I wonder where the salient part went.

It's weird. This is something that's been on my neck since I was born. And now it's gone. What? The mole's still there now, and it kind of still hurts if I touch it, but it's much, much smaller now. I thought it would never leave. Why did it pick last night?

I feel a certain vague freedom. Hmm. This feels too much like something from a Murakami story. But it makes more sense than something like that.

Not really stressed. What's up Puffs.

I haven't been stressed for awhile now. Like, no severe aaaargh crises or painful decision making. So there's no reason that I should be having physical trouble breathing deeply.

I figured it out. My mom gave me this 6-pack of Puffs tissues with Bicks in them, er, I mean Vicks, and they claim to be "Vicks-scented." Also known as infested with fucking Vicks. Picture sniffing Vicks every day for 2 months. Well, by blowing my nose in these tissues at a decent rate for the beginning of the spring semester, my chest got used to them. Vicks is supposed to relax your chest, and that's what it does. Now, however, I'm experiencing withdrawal. No, there's no fucking way I want to inhale Vicks ever again, but my chest can't seem to relax on its own and allow me to breathe in deeply when I want to. This is fucking aggravating and I only just figured out the connection between these tissues (which I stopped using about two weeks ago, maybe three) and my inability to breathe deeply. You can't use medicine for a long time without getting dependent on it, usually. Stupid Vicks. Stupid fucking Puffs. I sent them an angry letter, and I hope they read it. Oh, and lastly, stupid me for continuing to use them and not going out and buying other tissues when the concept of inhaling a heavy scent of Vicks whenever I blew my nose already bothered me.

Right now I'm going to try inventing breathing exercises and exercising a lot on my own in order to get the power of deep breathing back. Any suggestions?

April was Freewrite Month

It was. Don't you remember? If you don't, just click on that little arrow next to the "2007" on the sidebar over there, where you can take a look at our older bloggings. Wow, freewrite explosion! We almost had a freewrite a day, and we would've, had it been February. But that didn't happen...

I just went on a Star Fox trip without actually playing the game ("Star Fox") or getting high ("trip"). That's what happens when you look at FAQs of the game for too long. When you're already tired. And now it's 4:43 AM. I'm not doing that again... maybe I will.

I, with hash&hills, went back to visit the Prep, and it's incredibly strange. You know what? You know that hallway where DiMarchi's classroom is, and that unnecessary plasma TV broadcasts the Daily Bulletin? I never feel good walking down that hallway. What is it? I don't know, I don't know. Maybe it's because nothing good ever goes on there, until you get to the DiMarchi end. Then good stuff goes down.

I think we went back too late. December is the best time to go back, because it was pretty awesome back in 2006 when we went: I mean, if college is making us tired by now, just think of what it's like to be a high school teacher right now. Shit...

Apart from this, apart from this, I'm sitting in a chair, my left hand starting to hurt,

Um. Let's start that description again and preserve the classicness of that incomplete line, which doesn't look like it's going anywhere good...

Apart from this, I'm sitting here, staring into a predominantly white computer screen , somewhat on the precipice of cementing my long-term plans for the future. I know what my plans are for the summer, the fall and the spring upcoming, and now I just have to get the forms over and done with. There's something displeasurable about this, even though the product is a pleasure: that's it! -- it's an expected pleasure. What's so pleasurable about math, as Walor so elegantly put it, is the unexpected pleasure--getting something good and cool when you didn't know it'd happen.

Or is that it? Is it the fact that I have to go through something I don't feel like doing, or is it that I don't like to cement my future? I think it's both.

Whatever. This isn't too deep of a freewrite. Nothing I've done recently has been altogether too deep, which I guess shouldn't be too surprising, me being free from the high-school environment where we're practically individual mini-factories of insight and profoundness. (If "profoundness" isn't a word, let it be: "profundity" sounds like a "thud" or a "clunk" or a "crunk"; whoops, what? hahaha) Now we're just individual mini-factories of... productivity. Wait, is that true?

I have a feeling that, like high school, I'll understand college a lot better after I'm gone from it. You know what? Thinking about it right now, in the middle of the night, the blank white screen staring at me intensely, I think it's ridiculous that I looked Porter in the face casually and, without the slightest second-thought blink in my eye, told him that I was planning on being a math professor and going to grad school to pursue it. See, here's the thing: When plans are this big, (which they naturally get when you're at college) ...you get the feeling you're not even thinking. And the funny thing is, I don't know what to think as a result: I kind of like it?

Either way, things aren't as clear as they were in high school, although I get the feeling I'm not nearly as confused as I was back then. But it's not so easy to put something forward and say, "Look at this! This is a perfect product, fresh out of my oven" -- my essays just kind of get done and then forgotten. Problem sets take up half my work now, and the Japanese stuff is often just drilling, so I can't say I've been thinking creatively recently. My mind's been on creative autopilot --THERE! I've finally found the perfect way to describe it! ... does that mean I've just contradicted myself?-- and it's hard to recall what exactly my mind was on before.

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Haha, it's funny how that statement ended in something that sounds like I'm making a pun on drugs, but it was totally unintended.