Nothing's gonna change your world
21 February 2005 at 4:09 pm

I can see blue skies across the city but it's raining in my neighborhood. How's that for a metaphor?

Yesterday Sarah and I walked up Haight, around Golden Gate Park, down the Panhandle, and through the recesses of our minds. We both sometimes don't like our moms, but mostly because they don't really get that the whole women's movement in the 60s was for our benefit and now they're trying to get us to be subservient women. Not really, but sort of. Damien found a pinecone and when I threw it for him he managed to destroy half a flower garden in front of the botanical gardens. We ran away. Now he's staring at me with these eyes that say, "Please make it stop raining. I don't like to be wet. It makes my hair frizzy. But I want to play. PAY ATTENTION TO MEEEEEE." As a response, I'm sticking out my lower lip at him.

We (Sarah and I) also discussed how Aaron's boss can get me into Berkeley but I don't really want that to happen if I get into CCS and how unlikely it is that I'll get into CCS but how I really kind of don't want to get into Berkeley. I don't like it when I have a plethora of options for the upcoming year and how each option depends on the decision of others but I have to start planning as though one of those options is going to come through. So for now, I'm stuck in the limbo that is an office job. At least it's not like previous years when I didn't feel human unless I was planning for the future or obsessing about the past -- I'm ok with things right now, but perhaps only because there's the promise of the upcoming months. Chicago in April, Seattle in June, Santa Barbara? in August, and anywhere after that.

Literally, as soon I as I finished this, the sky let up and the sun shone directly into my windows. Hmm.


mod l post-mod



About me
Hi. Morgan, 27, of Santa Barbara, CA. I am a hypocritical admirer of rhetoric (when it is my own) and an observer of literary trends. A secret: I don't take anything very seriously, and that includes myself.