The one-armed bandit knows.

Well, today wasn't half-bad, really. I woke up feeling a little better... I mean waking up at 6:45 is always cause for a bad mood but in way of my fever/cold/flu/thing, I felt better. Which is good. Except that today on the way to my car I was seized by this vicious coughing attack and it still won't go away, and now my throat hurts. Also, for some reason, my arm feels like someone with fists the consistency of cement was pummeling my arm for some time. And as far as I know, that didn't happen. Oh well. Can't win them all.

It's February. I've almost had this account for a year - isn't that weird? I was thinking about it, and I don't seem to connect my beginning here to a month so near the beginning of the year. That was also the time that I painted my room. It seems like so much longer ago than that... and then at the same time, like a few months ago. How does that happen? So many people have described that phenomenon that I think it must be true, and time is just playing a horrible trick on all of us. February 2010 probably was only a few months ago. It was also probably three years ago. In fact, in some dimension, it's probably February 2010 right now. It occurred to me, some weeks ago when we were driving to Truckee, that I have an acute respect for Time. I was staring out the window, thinking of how many years we'd driven that exact same road, and all the stages of our lives that we'd driven it through. A white minivan like ours passed us on the opposite side of the road, and I found myself thinking that it was us on our way back. It didn't surprise me a bit.

Let's see... news. Something's happening to the gum on the lower left corner of my mouth - I don't think it's healing right. Some hard thing is forming and giving my tongue a blister on the side. That can't be good. In other news, I just yesterday got my biology textbook, and we have a test in a week. Lots of studying. Death. All that good stuff. I'm getting back to drinking coffee after a long stint on black tea, and I think my dad's coffee-making skills have suffered in my absence. I have also become obsessed with Tom Waits. Not his rowdy, cookie-monster-impression songs. His voice is so rough that his ballads are incredibly honest sounding... and that makes them beautiful. And incredibly depressing. (If I Have to Go, c'mon.) I'm learning worship songs so that I can lead at Beth's church on Friday. I'm driving myself all the way there after school - longest I've ever driven. I'm mostly looking forward to it - the drive, really. Not so much looking forward to the GPS that Mom insists that I bring. I swear those things are alive.

OH! Big news from London. The Dining Room is finally on. I have a cast, and a read-through is in the works of being scheduled. *tremendous sigh of relief* Also... shoot. That means I have to start thinking about a set. And lights. And sound. Nah, not sound... we'll be ghetto and count on projection. (Side note, the word ghetto is really without definition, I realized. Pendleton was talking about it in Western Civ. and he said he was asking a girl what happened to myspace. She said that everyone left because it went ghetto. He said that 'ghetto' brings to mind Jewish holding towns in Eastern Europe. I'm glad that's not what really happened to myspace....)

Today I went into my History of Motion Films class about ten minutes early, and witnessed a very charmingly flirtatious beginning of a relationship. (Or I assume it will be a relationship, anyway... two hours after class I saw them sitting together laughing outside the library. We'll see.) It hit me - I've seen this in lots of classes. In my first semester there I'd see it and assume that they were already friends or whatever creepy title they go by, on account of how chummy they were being after only a few class periods. Then I realized that no; no, that's just really how quickly people move. It's very interesting, watching it in its very first stage - it's like watching a movie, only of course, it's not... which makes me feel a little creepy for being there. Oh well. For whatever reason, the people that I end up sitting next to in classes and developing something like a friendship with, either male or female, end up dropping the class. Which is odd... because I don't think of the drop-out stereotype as the kind of person I'm drawn to. Maybe the drop-outs are drawn to me. Well, if you're going to have a "type" that you don't want, I suppose the drop-outs are the ones to have... they don't stick around long, anyway.

I'm listening to Tom Waits and my mother just walked in, guffawed, and said, "Goodness." Poor Tom. Don't take it personally... she doesn't like Nico, either.

Ohhh too much biology homework. I wish the world of college would listen to us when we say that we want to be English majors.... then I wouldn't have to deal with things like college algebra or biology. At least I don't have to be taking them in the same semester. Eeeks. A girl in my biology lecture class last week asked me what my major was - I told her English. She looked at me like I was crazy and asked what I was doing there. I told her I wish I knew.

Time for another cup of coffee.