whinge list

My neck is sore where it connects to the shoulders, so I've been unable to hold up my trumpet as well as I normally can. I think this is because - 

Stress. Three essays due tomorrow. I need to be more familiar with "We Will Fall Together." I'm very tired all the time, because - 

Average two to four hours of sleep over the last two weeks (except Saturday night, when my phone depleted its battery and no alarm meant eight blissful hours of sleep), which means - 

Sleep bruxism, or grinding teeth at night. I'd dislocated my jaw this morning and skipped work so it could slide back into place over the uncomfortable course of an hour. 

The graphics card in this laptop is commencing a slow downwards slide that picked up speed a few moments ago, when I had to spend a minute tweaking the angle of the screen to make the distortions and fuzziness go away. 

Left calf has been cramping for four days. 

Dear professor that I admire, I am sorry that I am doing kind of awful on turning that last essay in. 

Dear professor that has very strong opinions on conservation biology, I am not sorry that I made some value judgments and put three weeks of intense band life over writing two essays. I am sorry that I didn't try as hard as I could have tried. 

Dear graduate student who entertains communistic ideals, I am sorry I fell asleep during circle discussion on Tuesday. I was pretty mortified by the end of class. 

I have lots of worries over juggling transportation and keeping people entertained on Saturday. 

It'll be over by Sunday. 

Sometimes it hurts inexpressibly much, like tiny mice ice-skating over a wound that's scabbed over but is still raw and tender underneath. The stupidest things remind me of her, like listening to Foo Fighters' "Pretender" alone or trying to hold a skirt down while riding a bike. 

For about a week after, there was one friend who was much, much deeper in visible anguish than any of us (if you could see how many people miss you ..? i think that would mean something). She also reads Homestuck, and all I could do every time I saw her was remind her of the dream bubbles. 

At some point I think I started believing that too. 

I haven't had a dream in months, but someone told me a few weeks ago that she'd dream-conversed with a very lucid, functioning me (who had, incidentally, commandeered other people's dreamselves into serving her whim). I guess there's no way to have dreams with an empty dreamself-less bubble, so maybe my dreamself is wandering through bubbles and looking for you. 

To apply Homestuck to a more biologically-regimented sense of spirituality, dream bubbles might simply be discrete constructs inside individuals, but they'll hold memories that mature organically (albeit along biased lines, depending on the personality feeding them). 

I don't want closure, because that's a sense of finality and smarts of forgetting. But I would like to see you again. 

Anyways, 
 

I hope I find you. 

Talking to Genetic Replica about her needing to write a statement to qualify for a waitlist

She applied "Undeclared" and it's going to be hard to apply your dreams and aspirations to a specific university if you're unable to say what those dreams and aspirations are

and then

I thought about me and Davis. I came in as "yes biodiversity is totally rad and I just want to study islands forever and all their ecologies please" and that certainly ranks very high on my list of interests, but it clashes a bit with what present id-driven me wants to do. 

What I Say I Want To Do: 
Evolution
Ecology
Biodiversity
Island biodiversity
Biogeography
Island biogeography
Island biogeography and how it affects island biodiversity 
Behavioural ecology 

What I Want To Do: 
Draw
Draw
Draw
Read
Read books about biodiversity
Art history analyses
Comparative literature
Homestuck 
Long bike rides
Chart awesome shows
Design and sew

Occasionally I read a blurb or experience some marvel eureka that reignites the original "OMG BIODIVERSITY," but the rest of the time I'm afraid the eagerness was buried under all the prerequisite classes. 

Like physics. And statistics. And organic chemistry. Statistics I can understand, physics less so, but organic chemistry seems like an arbitrarily slapped-on class for all biological/chemical science majors with any interest beyond the superficial. My current molecular biochemistry class is also toeing the line because it runs quite a lot like organic chemistry, but at least these molecules and reactions are presented in a relevant context. 

Huffy detour aside, I still am interested in biodiversity! Only ...there's a rather narrow range of topics I'm particularly giddy for. If you poke at it the right way, it responds. 

Now my interest sounds like a dick. 

// ollies out

immense potential for power itty bitty living space

ah yes this is why I like science

I believe I will start ironically watching the Brady Bunch.

Coordinated family-friendly singing and dancing in airplane aisles. This ain't Britney Spears' "Toxic" (or Maroon 5's "Makes Me Wonder," for that matter). Get your platformed-heeled flight attendants out of here. No more latex miniskirts and blouses with three buttons popped out. This family is here to rock the quintessential matching Hawaiian shirts in every technicolour hue imaginable. 

Look at this humorous insert where the family has a team huddle and breaks, only to all walk towards the centre and forget that the atoms in humans are too-tightly-bound to be gaseous elements. Physics is not smiling upon you today, but slapstick sure is! 

Adorable blonde girl spots childhood hunk idol, smiles a dreamy braces-filled grin. Childhood hunk idol is called over by worried parents ("Oh dear darling! We lost our son!" "Hahaha he's right over by the parrots oh hahahaha"), walks directly into adorable blond girl. He smiles back and man check out that orthodontic metal. Deus ex machina at its saccharine finest. They'd lock more than gazes if they ever progressed from home base into sloppy makeouts. 

And aw hot damn check out your brother showing those waves who the big diggety dog is on these islands. There's enough grain in the footage to supply a San Francisco bakery with sourdough for a year. But we need a close-up to verify that haha no way this is a stunt double, so there you go with his upper shoulders and head! - completely out-of-sync with the waves because the dude is just wobbling around on the sand while the ocean in the background holds its gut and laughs at him. 

Quality.