Resolutions. (Also, it seems tonight I am jittery.)

Alright, internet. Resolutions first, then a summary of last night, then random blogthoughts.

Keep working on drawing skills.
Stay ahead of the pack in animation.
Excel in liberal arts classes.
Stop procrastinating so much
Achieve more A's.
Read more.
Write more.
Spend less money.
Make more money.
Practice the piano more often.
Try to make more friends.
Care more about health - physical, mental, emotional.
Work on self esteem issues.

Get a guy (the guy, The Guy).

Be happier.

Be awesome.

...

Last night was fun. Five people who are easy to be around came to my house - I had to pick up four in my parents' minivan; apparently none of my friends drive, for some dumb reason or another - and we did Nothing In Particular. Watched a movie. Hung around.

I love them. Some more than others, but them more than most.

...

I fucken hate being a cliche I fucken hate being a cliche I fucken hate being a cliche.

I know that humans are very much the same and there really aren't any 'different' people, but I hate that. I don't want to be the same.

I don't like to feel attraction to someone, because it feels too overdone and overtired and overworked. It's an idea and I hate it and I can't fucken help it and you know I'm one of those people who has to be in control, even in control of myself, so you see my frustration, right? Life's fucking with me.

Hopeless. Hopeless, hopeless.

I am obsessed with the truth and the evidence and the proof. I can't do anything off a whim. Impulse is not my strong suit; I am a nervous person.

I will take my own truth, then: I am not meant for relationships. If only because I'm too much of a coward.

Life is kind of difficult. Everything sounds scripted, everything seems like I've seen it before. But I seem to have forgotten my cues.

...

Do you ever think about writing your will? I do, sometimes. I'm too young, probably, to care. But I am a careful person, I am a just-in-case person. I'm the one who wants to get there early so I don't miss out; I'm the one who makes sure there's extras.

It occurs to me that writing one's will in something like a blog - or just somewhere online in general - would be an interesting thing to do. Probably not valid. But there, if anyone who reads it cares. There, enough that things might happen as the deceased had wished.

...

Today I spent a few minutes in front of a mirror to see what I look like when I'm happy.

I was, too.

I look better when I'm happy.

...

It is later at night now. Talking on Google voice chat, but his internet's patchy and sometimes lags. We lose audio connection occasionally. So when the audio dropped just now, I typed 'I lost you' at him. It looked out of the corner of my eye so much like something else that I had to triple check to make sure I hadn't slipped.

...

Motherfucker. He's asking me about blog sites.

I am a nervous person.

...

I'm just slipping everywhere. Slipped twice last night.

Motherfucker.

...

My hands are so dry during winter. My lips, too. My skin in general. But I always forget to do anything about it.

...

My throat hurts and I'm feeling queasy. Blaaargh. Was someone sick last night?

...

This is my sixtieth entry, by the way. Two months. I didn't think I would be able to write a post a day. I didn't think I had the ability.

Apparently I do.

Gotta keep it up.

Good night, if anyone is reading. Have a year. A good year would be nice. Make it good.

Olivia

PS. Neil Gaiman is just fucking amazing, and his words are fucking beautiful. I am jealous of anyone who attended AFP's show with the Boston Pops last night; it sounds like it was fantastic. (Is that her being led on under a blanket at the end of the clip?)



PPS. It occurs to me that my blog can probably be found through my email address, fuckyoupleaseGoogleifthisistrue. It also occurs to me that another resolution of mine should be to Be Less Nervous Or At Least Less Fucken Self-Conscious. And I should be less secretive as well. I am writing to the internet, after all. The internet knows nothing of privacy.