Crazy

So the three people who read this must think I'm a total basketcase after that last entry. I don't have a whole lot to say right now, but things have since gotten better and that last post can't just be the first thing people see.

First of all, I'm all of 22 years old now, and this past birthday was one of the best ever because a. I got to shock everyone with how young I am (most assume I'm in my mid-20's), b. parents in town meant nice dinners out three nights in a row, and c. all the kamikazes people bought for me Saturday more than made up for not doing anything on my 21st birthday. The three-day hangover, too.

But after such a lovely birthday weekend, there was a bit of schoolwork to catch up on. Still is, as it turns out. But I feel I've sufficiently recovered to tackle what's left with my usual gung h---oh wait, never mind. I did complete my SAS homework (and enjoyed it, like the nerd I am) and a poorly-written competitive analysis, and simply resigned myself to the fact that an assignment due last week will not get done. And I'm ok with that. In college it took me a couple years to work up to a stellar gpa, and since I don't have that kind of time here, I'll just go around shocking everyone with how young I am again.

In other news, being part of Friendster is just plain trippy. It used to be a way to keep in touch with everyone I went to college with: now I'm being contacted by friends from high school and earlier. And did I mention I wasn't too terribly happy in high school and earlier and it's weird to think of the people I knew then (and, like the mature person I was, hated then) as an adult (kind of) now, wondering what they're up to and realizing I didn't really mean it when I wanted them to languish in the netherworld that is SMC (Santa Monica College, where close to a fifth of my high school's graduating class ends up every year) forever.

Other items of note (or hilarity):
I found this website regarding weapons of mass destruction.
I'm still glad I live in Chicago so I don't have to deal with record-breaking temperatures in Los Angeles.
Napster's in the news again (those record companies just can't let go, can they?)

...I think that's it. Ta!

Everyone gets down when it's, uh, sunny

So the weather here in Chicago has been beautiful over the last couple days... better than it has been in LA (booya!), and probably better than it will ever be during the summer because there isn't a trace of humidity. There isn't a cloud in the sky, and the warmth makes you want to move to the park with a hibachi and never return. And it makes me sadder than I have been in awhile.

Maybe it's lots of stuff converging: things aren't going so well with my brother and I'm frustrated that I can't help. I've heard nothing about my summer internship except that I didn't get a position at Apple (would bend over backwards--or forwards, for that matter--to get a job there if my adviser would let me... hate not having any control over this!). So now I'm freaked out that I'm going to get stuck somewhere shitty, like at a certain company for whom we did a client project this past quarter (and I'm not referring to the Navy). I'd rather go deeper into debt working for a company I respected than end up there. Plus I wonder if it would be possible to change tracks entirely and intern in a DDE rather than advertising capacity.

And then there's this lethargy brought on by the warm weather. It reminds me of last summer, which was amazing, and makes me wish I was out doing the things I was then: traveling around with friends, going to new places... and instead I'm stuck here doing course readings and group projects. I like them, but at the same time I start to get that feeling where I'm just killing time, and I abhor that above all else. Then I get depressed when I think of never having that kind of freedom ever again. That was it. It's over. Welcome to the real world. You might have a discretionary income (someday), but you'll only be able to spend it on expensive cars, clothing and furniture, because that most valuable of assets, time, will no longer be yours. Welcome to the 50-hour work week, with only 9 (nonconsecutive) days off per year. It's enough to make someone want to go into academia.

I think the lethargy is a product of frustration: I'm not actually tired, I just wish I was somewhere else. Now that it's warm, I feel like I'm not adequately enjoying it. Like that Calvin and Hobbes where Calvin says:

"Here I am, happy and content.
...but not euphoric.
So now I'm no longer content. I'm unhappy. My day is ruined.
I need to stop thinking while I'm ahead."

There are so many things I want to be doing that ultimately I'm torn by indecision and end up doing nothing and being really unahppy about it. This restlessness is driving me crazy, but I can't figure out which outlet is most appropriate for it, so nothing gets released and I feel worse than I did before.

Ugh. Guess I'll go running.