There will be a time...

...for everything that needs to be done. I will make that time, if need be.

So everything that I consider important will at least be addressed before I leave, ok guys?

All of you.

But right now it's time for bed and sleep, and I'm making time for that.

news, part II

...ok.

So maybe I didn't make tea.

Guess I didn't. Could have sworn that I did.

Silly Evan...

I think that I'm done. Done with it all. Not blocked off, just...I'm walking away. It's too much.

And FUCK I hate giving up. I hate it the most. the Most.

News

Here is the obligatory update for those days when writing doesn't seem to calm me, so I don't want to do it. You see what I do for you guys? The sacrifices? (;p)

This morning, as I was looking for a thermos to put tea in for Sierra (she's sick, and I'm nice) I punched the shelf and my knuckles are now bleeding.

Last night the baccalaureate service was interesting. If by interesting I mean heavily, heavily new-age christian and very, very odd for me...then yeah, I mean interesting.

This weekend was Bekah and Nik's wedding, which I went to...late, after getting in a car accident on Clairemont that wasn't my fault, talking to the police for a half and hour which just resulted in a $180.00 citation, and going to the A: wrong street, B: Wrong church, C: Wrong side of the highway, and D: Wrong way in general.

But I got there, and stayed for about a half an hour, having missed the ceremony, at the reception. I left, frankly, because I didn't want to stay there when Sierra was there. Kind of an equal parts anxiety, awkwardness, and respect-for-her thing.

I ended up talking with Dutter at Fountain and getting yelled at by Ben from his house because he doesn't really understand the concept of BREAKING THE LAW.

And then I went to work and it was, by far, the busiest day we've had in concessions so far this year. Shrek II on a weekend? Blech. The lines didn't go down until AFTER the second movie started.

So...the year is almost over, and I feel like I'm just starting to get swamped. Maybe it's the late work I have to make up, or maybe it's all the emotional junk or just the fact that I'm going to college next year...hell, in three months. But it seems like there's a lot to do, and I really want a break from it all. I don't mind that I'm busy, but I do mind that I'm not enjoying any of the hustle or the bustle.

I mean, I can do without the hustle. But no bustle? A man's gotta have bustle...

But I've got bustle, I'm just not enjoying it. Take it how you will.

This summer/rest-of-my-life should be fun, though. I've really missed all my friends who were off to college, and it'll be awesome to see them. I miss you.

I have the worst headache.

I have a lot of stuff to do for school.

I have to work tonight.

But the day went well, as they go. There's always going to be room for specific improvement, but overall it was a lot better than I expected.

Have a nice night everyone. I'd like to say I miss you all, but I think I miss myself more. If you see him, give him my phone number, eh?

I do not know

how much more of this I can take.

Everything seems a little off; a little wasted. Everything I do doesn't shine or push me forward or feel good like they did before. I feel like I've got all my priorities wrong, but I'm too stupid to know what they should be.

I don't think I've really got my priorities mucked up, but their current configuration is so draining. Everything on TV seems to mirror what I'm feeling or have; or really used to, but don't anymore. Basically, this summer I'm going to have to go all out. As of Monday, actually, I'm going to have to do what I need to do to get what I want.

The thing is, though, I want so many things. It's hard to see all of them happening at the same time, especially when nothing is guaranteed; nothing that matters, at least. It's hard to see myself giving what needs to be given and not making any mistakes when there are so many opportunities to. That's what's worrying, more. Not the committment, but not really being able to trust myself to do the right thing. You can yack all you want about just doing what you do and letting that be enough for other people, but you can't apply that to college, or work, or love; it doesn't work.

But the thing is, it's daunting but by no means do I actually see bad things happening. I know, noone ever really does. I certainly didn't see my license getting taken away, or breaking up with Sierra, and I didn't really believe that I wouldn't get in at any of the colleges I applied to at first. So I have to run straight, and hope I don't hit a gopher hole or barbed wire fence or a tree. I could hit a tree. I'd probably be ok if I hit a tree. I'm a big guy.

But I have to get to the other side of...wherever. I want to run faster and see from new angles and do things that make my time as a living, breathing human memorable. I think most of those things will hurt, but I can hope, and I will try, and you really can't go into something not believing that you won't succeed.

Even if I don't have much personal motivation, on average, I am full of self efficacy. Or shit. Whichever.

I start at the drive-in on the fourteenth, which is a Fri, and I'm working box. Basically that means that if you come I'll let you in for free. The movies are perfect for bringing dates to, too, because you'd never want to watch them. ;p

Miracle and Confessions of a Teenage Drama Queen.

bloargh.

But writing here makes me feel better! It's hard, though.

We were talking in English about how much a man should have to take, and in Beloved (a book we're reading), a character says "as much as he can."

I've never really reached my limit, emotionally. Physically, in swimming, sometimes. Never emotionally.

So as far as I know, I haven't got one.

But please don't worry, if you were going to. I'm doing very well, all things told. It's just the whole senior-year-adulthood-thing is dawning on me more and more, and it's sobering. I'm very optimistic, very idealistic, and very worried. Which ends up making me sound depressed, but I'm not, just serious.

I love you all, you know that? Even if we're just good friends, or really just acquaintances. Even if we're somewhat estranged, or just haven't really talked in a long time, I really, really appreciate you. You give me someone to write to, and that's very much what I need right now.

Thank you :)

hah!

Which Empire Records character would YOU be? Hmmm?

This quiz made while Angel was procrastinating her ass off.

'Put this on that conservative child-genius site, but it didn't get all the way to him. Dunno what that means...*cough*

While I do not condone most of the comments made about the late Mr.
Tillman, I do take some offense to the basic tone of your article.

Why should the american left refuse support from Indymedia, or even
deny support to them? As the name states, Indymedia is an independent,
grass-roots, open to all organization, with many different spectra of
opinion represented within it.

Your statement that Pat Tillman's death was to protect freedom of
speech, and that slandering his sacrifice is an inappropriate act is both
partially true and misleading. While, when it comes down to it, the life
he gave was for the protection of the people currently disavowing
appreciation of it, people still have the right to state opinions. If their
opinion is that invading Afghanistan was wrong, and taking part in the
invasion or going so far as to join the
military to take part in it, then it is certainly their right to say
so.

If they believe that his sacrifice was stupid, let me repeat: they have
the right to say so. In whatever terms necessary, whenever they want.
He died for it. Respect it.

Do not respect them for what they said, and do not respect Pat Tillman
for what he gave, but instead that liberals have the right to say what
they want, and that Pat Tillman gave his life for what he believed to
be a right and just cause.

It is not that he died, it is that he volunteered his life for a cause
he believed in in defense of others.

In conclusion, your call, latent as it was, for the liberal left to
withdraw supports of free-speech organizations is outrageous.

Pat Tillman died, in his, my, and certainly your opinion, so people
could say what they want. Please do not spit on his grave.

I know it's a bit redundant, but I gave little thought to it. You should check out this kid's site though, it's interesting. The link is on Jenny's lj.

I'm a sucker for cool-sounding quizzes...

I am the Charismatic Charisma is a presence that excites us. It comes from an inner quality - self-confidence, sexual energy, sense of purpose, contentment - that most people lack and want. This quality radiates outward, permeating the gestures of Charismatics, making them seem extraodinary and superior. They learn to heighten their charisma with a piercing gaze, fiery oratory, an air of mystery. Create the charismatic illusion by radiating intensity while remaining detached. Symbol: The Lamp. Invisible to the eye, a current flowing through a wire in a glass vessel generates a heat that turns into candescence. All we see is the glow. In the prevailing darkness, the Lamp lights the way.

What Type of Seducer are You?
created by polite_society

Things that sparkle make things that glow a lot...less...

So, regardless of some icky things, my life this year has been...ok. You know, better than ok, but not over-all good enough to call good.

And then I went to Boone, and everyone was down with the whole unconditional positive regard, and they respected me for respecting them, and we laughed a lot and things got done in YAC.

And then I come home, and very few people are nearly as joyous as they were at the CON...to be honest, none were, and some people who I would have expected would be more comfortable weren't...like, mono-syllabic, no eye-contact, no smiles, or some-combination-thereof weren't.

What the hell?

I really don't get it.

But Boone was wonderful. Gorgeous, perfect (or nearly so) and very lifting, in general. I've never really missed a CON the day after before, but this time I did.

I hope allayurz weekends were as good as mine was!

(Pssst! School's almost done!)

PS: I went to bed really early last night, and the night before that, but today I woke up at 3 because I thought I heard whippoorwills outside my window.

Crank open the window, and...

...WHIPPOORWILLS!

Scroll down a few posts. Is that not wonderful and creepy at the same time?