I won't be back till like ten thirty, tomorrow night, and then all I'm going to want to do is sleep, so I'm typing this now to avoid the suffering later.

Tomorrow (well...today) is a giant day! I'm riding to campus an hour early to print out these reading notes, because we have this "group presentation" in History tomorrow, where basically we all do the reading and then we just casually talk about it to the class? But, we're the last section, so everyone else has already gone, and in each of those instances, someone from each group has come unprepared.

NOT IN MY GROUP. I'm printing out four copies because I'm not talking more than I have to. I had to make the notes for myself anyway, so why not just bring them in and be like HERE DON'T MESS IT UP?

No warning means they aren't depending on my work, so it feels okay. We get a group grade. I am not getting a B. Sorry.

Anyway, I have about three and a half hours between my last morning class and the stuff I'm helping out with at work (is it paid? I don't know), so that's when I'll study for my lab practical. It's going to be easy, since my latest lab partner, Jack, is the most pragmatic person on the planet (read: Chemistry major), and helped clear up anything I didn't understand (I responded by doing all the math, after he told me that the diameter measurement was a radius ("I PASSED CALC 2," he told me, like that made the math he was doing any better--step aside)). This is the first time I'm not scared of my practicals. Still, a bit of healthy studying is much needed. Three and half hours of it.

After that, work help, and then I'll have an hour to study for the biology pop quiz that she hasn't announced but I know she's going to give because...I don't know, I just feel it. You know? You feel it when a professor's about to toss a steaming pile your way.

--And then biology, and then the practical.

And then I ride home around ten thirty. Maybe I'll pick up a sandwich during my practical study time so I can go right to sleep, when I get home, and maybe not die.

Next day, it starts all over. Class, gap to prepare for meeting, work helping, more gap to prepare, meeting, then home around 5:30. I start my days around 7am, so I'm not really sure how I've been making it to all my classes, completed homework, study guides, notes, and flashcards in hand.

...Actually, yeah I am sure. I made all my notecards for test 2 in Spanish, so now I just study them all before class to prepare for the day's lesson. My other Spanish class, I went ahead, one weekend, and finished all the homework on the syllabus for the whole semester. I read my bio notes every night. Now all that's left is the reading, the essays, the unexpected homework, and the lab work.

This is the silver lining. Nights like tonight, when I don't know that he's changed his profile picture, and I curiously scroll over an unfamiliar icon on my page, and it expands, and there's his name, and there's his face...nights like tonight, I study extra hard, because I'm not about to concentrate on my feelings, when they're in the state that they're in. Nights like tonight are improved by a paper worth each and every of those hundred points, by the test that I don't have to scramble to study for. Nights like tonight, I need to have something that overshadows him, and being proud of myself does that.

I like working. I do. And I do it just for that, and the gratification I get from being the best. But, sometimes, I do way more than I have to, just to avoid leaving the library and risking the possibility of running into him and his stupid face.

So there's my unraveling sweater of an entry. I know my emotional stuff is kind of weird. It's just one of those things that comes in waves--some days, I don't think about him at all, and I'm really okay, and I feel so unburdened, but then other nights...it's quite different. I still haven't spoken to him. Sometimes, it gets difficult to refrain, but I just try to stay patient with myself and ask myself, again, how much pain I would be in, if I had to be the female friend who stands by and watches as he finds and falls for someone else.

And I'm not going to be that, so here we are.

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Be it extremely emotional, controversial, messed up, or whatever, this entry has been password protected.

If you know it, enter it; or, ask me for it.

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We had this project, back in eleventh grade, where we had to make a presentation based on our top three job choices. And I had no idea. It's hard to want to be anything, in high school, when everything we're learning is boiled down so anyone can learn it and straight from a textbook.

In college, I'm having the exact opposite problem. That's why I ended up just choosing the easiest route for my credit hours and what I've already completed. I would love to be so many things, because learning and then discussing that knowledge is so COOOOOL.

This has been a really funky semester, so far. I've lost trust in a lot of people I depended on most, disconnected with others, and haven't been able to see even more of them because they're studying elsewhere for a semester.

So, there's your explanation on why I'm sitting around at home on a Saturday night. Time to make some new friends, and get closer with the ones I already (and still) have around.

I've also just been studying a lot, though, let's be honest. Taking two Spanish classes isn't bad, but it's kind of weird to have to make two separate notecard stacks for Spanish vocabulary that I'm supposed to be learning at the same time. Hopefully, as I move upwards in my classes, the vocab will be less important and grammar and readings will take precedence. That would be easier to organize. My big black binder of study materials (yes) might get too full, otherwise.

I'm also making General Spanish Principles notecards, because 1) I need the review, and 2) I can lend them out to my students before their tests for extra study materials. Very helpful for memorizing irregular verbs and essential phrases.

Basically I kind of feel gratified when I'm super-prepared. It was frustrating, for a while there, because all my classes were easy and I didn't have to do anything. Now, studying finally feels useful. It's nice.

Dating on the back burner. I don't like thinking about romance, but I always end up thinking about it quite a lot, based on the situations I get myself into. Just...Spanish. Spanish and volunteering and other interesting things.

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This interview, in which Aziz Ansari casually convinces me to marry him.

Phone calls are important. Talking is important. I don't like this texting business going on with my New York person, and I think, if things don't start getting a bit less...chatty, I might have to pull a Monster.

...Usually I say, "Pull a [last name of SOMEBODY THAT I USED TO KNOW (SOMEBODYYY)]" but this is NuTang so hello, Pull a Monster.

LITTLE BACKGROUND INFO:

It was very quickly decided, once, when our romance was legitimate and not yet the romantic equivalent of Macaulay Culkin in his adult years, that we would not be so romantically persistent because there was great distance between us, and the monster was particularly opposed to phone calls (PS when someone far away says they "would date you right now" but that they don't like phone calls, run like they've just poured gasoline on you and are lighting a match). This was his decision, even though I was starting to feel...caged in our texting. The monotony was becoming very apparent.

BUT, it took sixty-odd days to get there, and that I'm oopskindofproudof. Those were mostly good days, I don't care what came after.

Anyway, at that point, things disintegrated and became increasingly complex and intermittently painful. That's what happens when you pull a monster--you end that initial habit, and make distance so that it doesn't start up again. Even if you're just doing this for a couple of months, you're essentially dooming the relationship (though, maybe it was doomed from the moment it didn't really become a relationship, but rather some place in between where there was mutual affection but too much distance and time between).

But now I get it.

Now I freaking get it.

It's done for either way. You either tell this person that there needs to be more distance, because things are moving along artificially (text does not sustain real conversation--you can't connect via text that well, I'm sorry) and it won't support a real romance, and the relationship becomes almost certainly doomed because you almost feel uncomfortable and angry when the other person somehow violates that distance...OR, you let it keep going and you become so claustrophobic, so exhausted from putting up with monotony that, someday, the tension snaps and the relationship ends.

Third choice is, of course, that both parties stop naturally and things continue to take their course of action. Whether things work out or not...well, that's up to the two individuals, and what it's like when they're together...

But I get it. I totally get it.

And, I definitely need to see if I can't stop the everyday texting (yeah, I know, bad Unicornasaurus. Bad idea), before it turns into a, We Need To Seriously Slow Down and Take Some Distance.

Because I'm starting to feel like I'm just pacing in a cage, again. It's more extreme than last time, but I also wasn't the one to suggest "taking distance," last time. Maybe this is how he felt.

Maybe he's just a jackass, but just maybe this is how he felt.

Probably both.

Just...right now, I'm doing what makes sense, which is to take space if I need space. He knows the deal--we've been feeling this whole thing out, and that takes time, so we should be moving so slowly, staying free agents, et cetera.

But I think that--like I did, once--he's changed his hopes.


Knew it was too easy. The fates love pairing the elusive unicornasaurus with blatant, glaring parallels. It's like a game. See How Obvious We Can Make It Without Her Noticing.

BUT OBVIOUSLY MYTHOLOGICAL CREATURES DON'T MAKE MISTAKES SO I'M COOL RIGHT

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