*yawns, stretches*



Today has felt so long, yet so short. It's only noon and already I'm tuckered out. Making appointments with different people who will help me decide the finality of my studies here at the University and, consequently, the direction my life will take once I leave here has sapped lots of my energy, which was minimal even when I got out of bed this morning.



There's definitely a special place in my heart for my orgo professor. She started out with the intention of becoming an English major but ended up majoring in biochemistry.. I mean, what more does one need to say about that? It's awesome, and she proves to me that people proficient with words, which people associate with femininity and emotion, can still be just as proficient, if not more so, with science and "reason". I love her lectures. She's so adept with words that her meaning usually comes across with such clarity. She's excellent with names, and she doesn't give a shit about clothes. She has tattoos. She lives an hour away and is here for every single lecture. She has office hours Monday, Wednesday, Thursday and Friday. She gives out her home number. She has children who adore her. And she has me who adores her as well.



Walk with me for a minute here, and try not to pass judgement: If I were a lesbian I could totally fall for intelligent women.. There are two in particular who have had such an impact on my thinking and time spent at U of M: Sharon Marquart and Kathleen Nolta. Not saying that I find them in any way attractive, but as far as women go, the way to my heart would definitely be straight through my brain. It seems like, with men, the way to my heart is through my ears and up my skirt. That would make me easy, except most men figure they can get the "up my skirt" part right. Thing is, though, they don't know what to say and how to say it.



I made a command decision earlier today: I will major in bio and minor in women's studies. It only takes 16 credits/4 or 5 classes to do so. I already have 2 classes under my belt so it'll be easy to just go on in that direction. I dont think it'll make me look more marketable to med schools, but perhaps it'll be a factor once I start trying to get into a particular hospital.. I dunno. Anyways, I hope it'll all work out. I've also decided that I might like to study abroad in England or somewhere in Europe before I'm done with undergrad... I'd die if I could go to spain, only I don't speak any spanish. Ugh I bet the guys are so incredibly hot there right now. *sigh* Hehe don't worry, Toby.. I still love only you. ;)



I'm cutting women's studies this afternoon, lol. I find that really ironic; don't you?

I had to leave you with this... It's what the cost of a college education can send you to: BBC Reports: U of Bristol student sells virginity online

I've had a headache for the past two days now, for some reason. Last night I straightened my hair, which wasn't a big deal except for the fact that it was pretty painful after going so long with natural, uncombed curls. They tend to tangle, you know.


This week is somewhat hellish due to a French paper and that test I had last night (which kicked our asses, as we in Bio 305 have come to agree), not to mention the Orgo exam I have coming up Tuesday night. Then again, it could have been tonight so I'm grateful for that, at least.



I'm all for people having inflated opinions of themselves and their teachers, but sometimes people get on my nerves about the way things come so easy to them. In French today I was ready to slap two people in particular and let them know that their damn airs about French aren't so great. But that's a stupid reason to be mad at someone, so I'm gonna get a coffee from the machine in the vending area and shut my mouth. Amazing how I can have post menstrual syndrome. Other than that, I can't say that I'm doing poorly. I just feel like relaxing, and I can't wait until Josh visits this weekend because I miss him very much. It'll be nice to have his arms around me again, if only for a little while.



Lots of simple sentences, I realize. Don't think that's lost on me. Anyway, I've been evaluating the course of my, well, courses here and found that I only have a few more until I can say that I majored in biology from the University of Michigan in Ann Arbor. Go me. I should find a minor, at least. Can you believe our school doesn't offer an English minor? That'd fit what I'm after perfectly well, you know? Ah well... I can't think of any other subject that I really like enough to do a minor, so is it alright if I just major in bio and call it a day? Starting this summer I'm going to investigate different med schools to find one that'll accept me, flaws and all. That's the part of my life I'm tending to worry about...



I haven't much else to talk about right now. Perhaps I'll be along later, but don't I always say that?

Some days don't you just feel like you're immersed in a huge body of water? All your movements are sluggish, and life is as a dream.. not necessarily beautiful or important, but that vague haze only slightly remembered once you've awakened. I feel groggy, slow. Each thought is laborious. Today is cloudy, almost warm, with a slight undercut of wind that chills when I least expect it.



Mondays and Wednesdays at noon I always go to the library and check out at least two books from the University Reserves for my Women's Studies class. The readings are usually so boring and full of technical jargon from the perspective of whoever's writing that I fall asleep at my table while reading on a regular basis. Feeling more tired than usual, I made my way over to the little area where there are chairs worn soft by years of heavy use. I propped my feet up on an ottoman and read until my arms dropped into my lap and my head lolled over to the side. I'm not sure if I was staring, but when I woke up there was a guy sitting across from me trying to sleep also, and one sitting to my right, desperately trying not to watch me. He'd positioned himself angled away from me but kept glancing back.. I assume he'd been doing it periodically because when I finally opened my eyes he immediately glanced my way.



I love that blogger is such a community of people who love writing and documenting the events of their lives. My previous attempts at journaling online haven't been nearly as rewarding as this stint, especially since my blog's makeover. I hate to say it, but as many hits as I've received due to the change, I'm feeling the need to make another change. Not for a while, but be aware of that; I'm beginning my search for a template worthy of my alterations.



Perhaps there'll be more of a post later tonight after my bio exam.

Oh-kay. This post will be free of the "yucky love stuff", I promise.



I am a hopeless critic--editor, if you will. Since the beginning of my passionate love affair with the written and spoken word (so, I'm supposing that must have been circa 1986, when I learned to talk and visualize letters), I haven't been able to suppress that thing inside me that always has to make corrections. My mom, who used to be an English teacher, always asked me to help her grade papers once she realized I was good for this purpose. She never really let me grade content, but mechanics was always my forté. From newspapers to advertisements to graduation announcements and wedding programs, I'd sit down with my trusty black ink pen (I despise any other colors except purple and green for writing) and mark the hell out of whatever it was. Talk about losing sight of the forest for the trees.



You can imagine, therefore, how much it bugs me when I go back and reread my own writing and find mistakes up the wazoo.. I don't stop at the mechanical, though; it drifts into the thought process that led me to choose particular words. I always notice how I've left something out or added something with the result that my whole original meaning is altered. For a split second I consider changing everything around and publishing over and over again until it's perfect, until I realize that keeping this blog is the way I remember what passed through my thoughts at the moment of writing. Certainly there'll be mistakes; there always are. That doesn't necessarily ruin the effect of the piece, though. Josh never thinks so, but then he might be blinded by his rose colored glasses through which he views everything pertaining to me. I promised I wouldn't delve into the "yucky love stuff" again, but you should still know that right here I really wanted to. :)



I went to bed last night, or this morning, at 6:46 am and woke up at 3:22pm. It was awesome, but when I went to the mirror I scared myself with the dark circles beneath my eyes, somewhat reminiscent of the grim spectre of death, or at least the crooked proprietor of the asylum in Beauty and the Beast. A test in bio tomorrow night at 6:15 will have me studying the night away again tonight, but it's alright. Only a few more weeks until I'm released from the torture that is fall and winter semesters at college, then on to the torture of living at home for an entire summer, lol. You guys stay cool.

Never been eloquent, love, just adept at pointing out the obvious. It always starts in your eyes, I think, the way they always conjure up visions of coastal Maine's choppy seas: blue and gray in an endless rivalry, with me the winner. Your sweet smell, so uniquely masculine; poignant, yet never oppressive. (The latent insanity within me longs to seal you and everything you've ever worn or slept on into giant ziplocs and drive you to my lair where I can poke pinholes into the plastic and smell you, little by little, until the end of time.) Lips soft and deceptive, your mouth sparks fires wherever it touches. Yet, my love, you never utter a word until I've reached the breaking point... then you tease me further. I love and hate that about you. Your smoooth shoulders dotted with scores of honey-brown freckles, each one of which I could kiss for an entire lifetime. Your chest, always my pillow. Skin so taut, creamy, occasionally hairy.. perfect. And my fingers trail downward along the scar that winds its way around your navel, always a reminder of how I lost you, how I will never lose you again.



God knows that I love you.



Normalcy will return, all, but right now I will go back to cold bed warmed by ardent thoughts of my love.

I dunno if the diacritics will show up, but...



Je voudrais écrire quelquechose en français que pourrait compris, et au même temps complexe. Mon prof est un con et, à cause du ça, tous mes tentatives pour grandeur sont pas reçus avec encouragement. le Français est plus difficile qu'anglais et je crois que il devrait y a un prix pour quelqu'un qui ascends au 232, particulièrement à 8h10 chaque matin, lundi à jeudi.



What saddens me about the above is that it took about 6 or seven minutes to translate that. Some of the words I knew; others forced me to consult my dictionary. *sigh* I just wanted to put something that's not readily accessible for you all, like Hugo and all those other people who are so cool enough to have another language at their immediate disposal. I seem to be copycatting a lot lately.



I took a tip from someone I've been chatting with often these past couple weeks and ordered sexy lingerie in the hopes that I get to wear it for a certain special person before the end of my time here. Something about me taints the image of lingerie, however, from sexy and tantalizing to just a little girl trying to look older. How come I can't be sultry/sexy/trashy when I want to be? I just come across with innocence. "Get out of your older sister's closet!"



I'm just blogging right now to give myself something to do in order to thwart some feelings of jealousy. By no means equitable and feeling the embarrassment of knowing there's a double standard, I'm just sitting here waiting for Josh to come back home. He's told me numerous times that there's absolutely nothing going on, and I believe him. I'm just jealous that someone else, especially her, is going out with him right now when I haven't seen him for a week and won't get to for another whole one.. And even that phrase "going out with" gave me a little shudder. Now, Josh has taken major shit off me during this relationship (i.e. going out on actual dates with guys while we were together... I know, I'm scum.) and I have the duty to allow him to go out with someone who's clearly just a friend, but you know my innate Laura-ness. And just knowing that at one point he expressed some clear preference for her over me while we were going through a rough break-up has my buttcheeks clenched so tight I could prolly crack a walnut if you placed one in there. Not that I ever would but you get the idea. Even so, last week it was this other girl who I shall call Emma.. they went to dinner and a movie. How datelike is that, even if it's not the case? *sigh* It's hard for both of us to make friends and we usually take them any way we can get them, but I'm wondering if we're going to give up the ones of opposite sex once we get married. I think it's difficult to emotionally connect to someone of the opposite sex and keep it completely platonic.. cuz you always find yourself wondering, wouldn't it just be easier to be with so-and-so? s/he already knows me so well; we're best friends! My relationships with my male friends are going through some rough trials because I don't see them, so I don't know if we're still friends or not, but anyway.. it's just like the people he really connects with are girls and I am jealous. You can either consider this a logical argument or the ramblings of a jealous girlfriend. Let it be as you like.

I realize that I owe you all a post, as you come here looking for the little tidbits I dish out at least once a day like ordinary hungry men crave beer-battered chicken strips.



What's up with this weekend? How come everything fun that I could have attended is going on the very weekend I have to study hard for my bio exam? Drag. The African culture show, the Latino culture show, and the Pow-Wow are all going on this weekend. Where will I be? In my stuffy little dorm room beneath my bed studying about DNA and stuff. Boo.



This section of orgo is getting much more difficult, by the way. I need a private tutor, man, cuz Elimination, substitution, electrophilic addition, etc. are tough concepts to grasp. Are you a chem major or do you enjoy science? Hook a sistah up.



Been meeting lots of new people lately, hanging out with them and stuff. Weather's warmer and it's evident in people's moods; they're much more approachable. I like the change.

I like music, and that's one of the things I'd like to develop when I get a bit more free time. Did you know that when I was about 15 I desperately wanted my parents to buy me an electric guitar so I could become one of the front-running black female rockers? They didn't do it because they didn't approve of me listening to such music (yet they disapproved of the trashy lyrics of R&B and the mysoginism of rap). Since then, I've stopped wanting a guitar, but secretly I'd still like to have my own band. I'd sing my heart out, from beautiful teary ballads to screaming punk and thrash metal and stuff. Can you just imagine me doing that? *rolls eyes*



Not sure why I brought that up. Maybe it's because I downloaded (yes I pirate off the 'net) two singles from No Doubt and Staind: "It's My Life" and "So Far Away", respectively. They're good,and after listening I feel more mellow.



I miss the smell of babies. They have their own cute little intimate milky smell.. not dirty or unpleasant, but it makes me feel all soft and warm. I want to rub my face on a little tummy and feel a tiny hand curl around my finger. Not that I want a child of my own at this time--too much responsibility. I just want to indulge that little softness inside me for tiny lives. They're so adorable. Who's got a baby I can play with for a while?



I'm guessing I don't have much left to talk about, all.. just more sappy stuff I'm not interested in letting you hear right now. Feel free to talk all you want, though. 'Night.

I love these quiet hours between French and everything else where I come to the Fishbowl and dedicate some time solely to you, Blogger. What other quality time can we spend together for a whole hour? I read others' blogs, catch up on the ones I subscribe to like porn, lol, and just relax and let the words flow from my brain through my fingers and out onto your fresh white text fields. This is life; this is happiness. It's in you, Blogger. No need to indulge in all those other things; merely satiate that hunger for expression inside me. After that, there's not much left to exert anywhere else.



The weather here in A^2 is rainy (orange you glad I went natural today?) and it's about 38 or 39° F. I'm wearing a lovely denim jacket under my leather jacket, a purple tee and some jeans. I don't feel exceptionally pretty, but I do feel good, and comfortable to boot. What could be better than that? I've a whole cubicle to myself here and it's relatively quiet cuz most people are still in bed at this early hour (9:28am). I am happy for the time being, everyone, and that means a lot to me right now. I'd like to hear your thoughts on my previous post, so if you get a chance you should look at it. Even if you disagree with me and think that my hair looks like shit I'd still like you to say so.. don't ever be afraid to state your opinion here on the sluttiest of slutty blogs on the net, baby. It's all about freedom.



Nikki, I totally admire your courage to stand up and be yourself, not that it seemed like you had a problem doing that anyway. I'm proud of you, girl. *high fives Nikki* (sometimes I am sooo lame hehe)

"I hope you're not leavin' it like that. Whatcha gonna do with your hair?"



My whole life I've been told that the above hair is unacceptable. This wild, untamed head of kinks and frizzy spirals is not fit to be seen in public. It takes 3 hours to straighten, and since that's what's normal, or pretty, that's what I do.



"What's it matter? It's just hair."



It's more than just hair. It's the idea that who I naturally am, the way I look, isn't professional, or beautiful, or even acceptable. Saturday nights with bottle after bottle of detangler and the widest-tooth comb I could find. Sunday mornings in front of the stove, a slave to my "hot comb" (straightening iron), ears getting burnt... all so I could have pretty, smooth, straight hair for the rest of the world to see.



I don't want to do it anymore. And I dont want to be a public spectacle because of it. It's not okay that people stare when I emerge from the shower this way. It's not nice to be gawked at while I blow-dry. It's not right that the only way to have a normal day is to conform to what the european-american standard of beauty dictates.



Today I will try natural and see where it leads. I will no longer be afraid of rain or even minor humidity. I will take the first step toward being me, naturally, whether you think it's pretty or funny or not.

Oh, and last night I dreamt that my mother died and left me to manage the house with my brother.. it didn't work out too well and it seemed like there were people coming by to rob us or something, only the one guy was trying to get me to go out with him.. very strange, very disturbing. needless to say I tossed and turned all night.

Just got done with my first class and am passing the time between it and bio, 80 of the boring-est minutes of my week.



French is hella frustrating, guys, and I can't wait to get out of it. That's me, though; when things get frightening or frustrating I always run away. I can't seem to shirk that part of me. Anyways, my teacher stopped me to talk after class and asked me why I seemed upset. I broke the ice by telling him that black people need their 3 feet of personal space and that he shouldn't take it personally that I wasn't coming very close to him. Then I let him know that I was counting down the days until being able to quit French for good. Really folks, I'm looking forward to it.



So I came here to the Fishbowl in Angell Hall and started looking at products for supposedly curly hair. I've found some, but they're so expensive and I'm not sure if they'll work on my kinky and damaged hair. I'm tired of going straightened all the time, so much so that I've gone to wash, blow-out, and wear. If she saw me, my mom'd be mortified, I'm sure. Oh well. It is, ultimately, my hair. It'd be nice if it would grow some, but then again I'm really hard on it just like I'm hard on the rest of me.



From where does that stem? Why am I so hard on myself? Everyone's always said that I'm always my own toughest critic, tougher than anyone else could ever be on me. My best friend and worst enemy all rolled into one. It's true, but there's no way to get around it: I don't really love myself. Sometimes I like myself, to be sure (I mean, who could be prettier than me when I go through my "pretty phases"?), but most of the time I'm downing the woman Josh loves. Dunno what to say or do about it.




In other, non-depressing news, I'm gonna make a doctors appointment if there's a campus phone around here so all my other physical stuff can finally get taken care of. That'd be nice. And I'm bored. If you wanna hang out or do something fun let me know.

I've always thought of life as one great big show. Think about it. You thread your way to your destination amidst hundreds of people doing the same thing. You see someone coming directly for you; you take a couple of steps over, and you pass each other smoothly. Isn't that just a choreographed dance? You know the scenery, and you can never forget your lines because you make them up as you go. Sometimes you wish you'd said something better, but who's to say that's not the way that the show had to be in order to get you through to the next scene?



I will let you in on a little not-so-secret: I'd love to be a writer. I'd love to spend my days searching my soul for something special to share with others, writing things that inspire them and motivate them and make them feel. Thing is, I don't know if I could respect myself with such a career. Majoring in English would be fun and exciting, but I don't know if I could trust myself to make it all work. Who'd pay the bills? I don't think I'd be good enough. So I just do this thing as a hobby... a hobby that I've done nearly every day since August 1996 or so.



Counseling went alright. The lady was nice, very empathetic. She wanted me to know that I was worthy of coming to counseling, that it wouldn't be time better spent with someone else who felt he/she had more problems. If the problems I deal with are bothering me, why shouldn't I also be entitled to help? I agree. You know how we know things in our head, but it's a different thing entirely when when emotions are involved. Anyway, I came home feeling like a stopper had been removed, letting all that had been built up flow out. I actually cried a little when I came here, poured out a little flood of emotion to my unsuspectiong Josh, and then sucked it up and went and got a smoothie. A pacifier, I realize, but it did help. I'm still drinking on it and I got it like an hour ago.



College is exhausting. They ought to make you go to counseling at least once a week just like any other class. So... back to homework and studying.

Michigan's transition from winter into spring leaves me with little inspiration for "thoughts of love". Of course, Josh is inspiration. :) Recently we went through something that's brought us closer together, I think, and reiterated to me, the queen of distrust, that sharing your life and all of yourself with someone isn't so bad.



On his suggestion/prodding/encouragement, I've decided to start going back to counseling for the rest of the time I'm here. I don't think that'll mean many sessions, as I'll be back in the Chi by May 2 at the latest, but whatever can be done in these last few weeks should be good. Something has me thinking in the back of my mind that things are going to be different this summer. It's always that way, though. Each new season gives me hope for the future. Hopefully I make more things happen and don't squander the preciousness of youth I've got right now. I'm tired of knowingly doing things I'll regret. I mean, if you're going into situations with your eyes wide open, more shame on you when you do wrong.



People, I hope you can realize that I've changed from the person I used to be. I mean, the sniveling little fraidy-cat still remains, but she's smaller than she used to be, with less control. I hope I'm less judgmental, less know-it-all, less of a pain in the ass. Well, not that much less. I don't want to become a complete pushover, but I think I could stand to be friendlier. Last summer was absolutely awesome. I met some great people and reconnected with others. Lessons were learned (mainly, "keep your word" and "sometimes things are better let go") and memories were made. It's good to have some recollection of fun times of the past for when things don't go so well in the future. You know what I mean.



But again, I find myself anticipating summer yet again. This time I'll be taking physics and working, but it'll be alright. I just wish I didn't have to leave Josh here, damnit. But ya can't win 'em all.

I'd love to be bilingual, really I would. I just lack the patience and fortitude necessary to sit down at length and take this other language seriously. Not to down those who fluently speak this language, but linguistically, it's crazy. Very different from English.



I'd feel differently if I weren't American. And part of me doesn't feel like a true American, being black and all. But anyway, like my Taiwanese roomate said when I talked to her about this, "Everybody wants to learn English." It feels like all the other languages of the world are being phased out as everybody becomes one giant culture: American. But we're made up of such a myriad of other things that American is really the world. I just don't understand why we have such little respect for other countries autonomy and ability to exist completely outside the realm of ourselves. A superiority complex, to be sure. But I'm not out to down the land that I love, because I really can't imagine myself anywhere else (except Spain, maybe. I'm so enamored with the sunshine and the Mediterranean life, the sexy dark-haired men and the thick accents...that I was getting ready to run away and move there until I found out that a one-way ticket ran about $1k).


I'm tired of French because it's difficult and I detest being wrong, really. Thankfully, though, this is the last semester of this two-year requirement and afterwards I can be completely finished, speaking only in English for the rest of my time at U of M. What a blessing. I have a presentation in French also, so wish me luck.



I've been experimenting a lot with my hair since coming to college. Mostly this sophomore year, though. I've gone from completely natural curls to blown-out, to braids (which I did yesterday but took out on account of they weren't straight) to coloring. It's all been a fun and interesting ride, but I will probably go back to my straightened hair because that's what everyone likes/expects. They don't stare as much then either. You have no idea what it's like to be standing in the bathroom blow-drying your super-curly locks while white girls come in and pretend not to look yet peek out of the corners of their eyes and whisper quietly to each other "I wonder how she's gonna tame that..." I'd just like to slap this hair on them for a day and see how they feel about it, but they dont deserve it. Black hair is too good for them. My hair holds styles for days. :P and it doesn't go limp after a couple of hours. I dont' need volumizing shampoo or a crimper to create cuteness cuz it's built in. So there.


Alright, enough of that. I'm gonna go watch some Spongebob and chill some more on Sunday afternoon. Smell ya later.

Wow, no writing since Thursday? A momentary lapse in my otherwise persistent blogging system, gentle reader, I assure you.



On to more interesting things. I, Laura, will take a big step down from my giant pedestal and admit something to you all: I think the ongoing feud between me and Britney is coming to an end. It took about 5 years or so, but maybe we'll be burying the hatchet. I don't want to speak too soon or I'll jinx it, though. It's just strange the way the world works out, I'll tell ya.



Also, I tried something new today, but I'm not at liberty to say what it is because I do have some sense of propriety. It's just that it seems like it's the latest craze and now I've joined it. It's not without its charms, but I don't know if I can stand to make a habit of such and still keep everything together, hehe. :)



I got to spend last night with Josh, which is always really nice. I fell asleep next to him and woke up beside him and smiled to myself. He's on the couch behind me watching basketball and he just said, "I love you!" and then started making some funny sounds hehe. What a cute little weirdo. I can't wait until we move in together.



I guess I didnt have as much to say as I thought. Well, maybe tonight all. Later!

I remember meandering about campus with Josh and feeling like the most beautiful woman in the world. They say that a woman in love is the most beautiful woman in the world, and that seems to be true. I mean I felt radiant, and it was like his love for me made me beautiful.



Now I wander around pretty much alone. Occasionally I'll see someone I know and we'll make our way toward whatever building, but it doesn't feel the same. The way he warmed my left side as we walked almost pressed together, fingers entwined, was the sweetest accompaniment of all, really. It's amazing how we have so many memories that are wrapped up in U of M. Late nights spent snogging in dimly lit classrooms; frequent visits to Panchero's; escaping the summer sun by relaxing beneath the trees on one of my breaks between classes; that one rapturous week we spent together, sleeping and making love, with an occasional break to stave off starvation. So many beautiful head pictures.



It'd be lying if I said I didn't come here to be with him. Oh yeah, and I wanted to earn a diploma from a reputable school, but I mean, if he had gone to Ohio State or even Michigan State (heaven forbid) I would have gone with him. That's the kind of girl I was, and still am. So, as I reach the halfway point of my college experience and everything begins to figuratively go downhill in terms of becoming easier, I am looking ahead to med school. Josh has promised to follow wherever I go this time, and of course I'd love to return to my roots in Chicago. I love that city so much. Anyway, we've decided to get an apartment, if possible, and move in together while I go to medical school . Honestly, could you imagine me living with my parents while attending med school? Where do other people live? I need to find that out.



At this point, he's working and taking a few classes online before he comes back. We've promised ourselves and each other to return to that sweet life we had before I started making mountains out of problems that seem teensy now, but we shall see what develops. I know I can hardly wait for this fall to come 'round. There's a chance for a fresh start and it brings me yet closer to graduation and being with Josh on our own terms, which would be wonderful.


Everybody always says that whenever I wax sentimental I tend to go on and on. Can you stop a flood once it starts? All that is always pent up inside me, and it's nice to let it out in a public way. I'm in love, yeah. Isn't it blatantly obvious?

I do try to be a good girl whenever I can, but sometimes the appeal of being bad is just so strong that I falter. I've listed lots of my bad habits in surveys and stuff hundreds of times, so I won't rehash that. But hopefully you understand.



You sooner or later get to a point where you want to mke things right, better than before, for the people you're with and for your future. So I'm tryin' to do that. And I'm trying to be a good friend to other people without being treacherous.



I wish someone would have taken me out for green beer or something tonight, but I am underage, so... Damn drinking laws in America. We shoudl be like Europe in one respect. And don't you say I'm not Irish. I'm black.. I'm sure one of the slaveowners in my lineage had to have some Irish blood. So kiss me, baby, cuz I just might be Irish too.

Okay, at long last, I finally have something of interest to say. So, as the coyote said to Homer in the episode about the chili cook-off where he was trying to find a soul mate, "...Your mind is in a state of readiness, so listen well."



You know how sometimes people say to you, "Who the hell do you think you are?" Well, today, I have an answer for all of them:


I am Laura, damnit.


When I walk down the halls in the buildings on this campus, people turn and look. I pretend I don't see them. I pretend I'm a beauty queen on her victory walk down the runway, except I don't use the wave because I don't even need to. When I speak in the lecture hall, people turn around in their seats to get a good glimpse of me. When I dress up, the boys open and hold doors for me. Who the hell do I think I am? It's more than a thought, honey. I'm Laura eff-ing F. and I don't have to take no shit from anyone unless I'm feeling benevolent.


I can do whatever I want. I can stop bullets with my hand like Neo in The Matrix. I can sing like Whitney (pre-Bobby). I can dress better than the Queer Guys. I can draw you to me like a magnet with my subtle sensuality, or I can push you away with the force of a thousand winds. I know what I want, and you'll be damned if I don't get it. I have no need of a temper because I don't have to let anything get me angry. I confound you with my witty remarks. I amaze you with the depth of my feeling. I surprise you by throwing a bone at the oddest times. I excite you when I show a little skin. I make you proud with my carriage, baby.



You know why? Because I'm Laura.



It's not arrogance. It's confidence and a little bit of annoyance. I mean, who are these people to think they have such power over me that I can't make any decisions on my own, that they're so completely and utterly wonderful that I'm just addicted? I have more power than you think, more strength than I let on, and even more than I realize myself sometimes. And dammit, I will not be defeated by anyone, not even myself. What a loser I was to think that just because things come difficult that they aren't worth working for. I've been given a lot and it pisses me off when people who've been given a lot don't use their stuff, so lemme stop creating a double standard between myself and other people and just suck it up. No more crying. No more sleeping through lectures, and no more being a pussy about life. If you're not for me, I got a very choice phrase for you: FUCK OFF. I don't need ill-wishers. You can be part of that pale haze outside the focus of my victory walk.



I wash my hands of the past; all that shit took place under a different Laura. And we happen to be under new management now.

Hey. Nothing interesting happened today, and I didn't make any observations I'd like to note. Well.. I suppose if I think real hard I can come up with something...



Oh yeah. Sometimes it takes a little work to empathize with people, but it's possible. All you have to do is put yourself in their position in your mind and ignore what you think you would have done better. Imagine that life is completely crazy and that nothing makes sense. Then you can understand. And at the point you understand, then you can help. Nobody ever wants to hear "I told you so" unless everything is going perfectly.



My panties are showing. They don't call me slut for nothin'.

I woke up at like 12-something when my roommate Grace came in, but then again, I hadn't made it to bed until 6am last night. Dreams were strange, things that weird me out. Not necessarily the progression, but the situations into which I was placed, considering the current circumstances of the world. They say, though, that dreams involving other people are not usually about them, but about parts of yourself that may be characterized through them. And that knowledge, I must say, weirds me out even more, because however would I compare parts of myself to the people in my dreams?



Nothing much accomplished today save homework and a little more hair-straightening. Maybe I thought a lot, but then again, maybe not. I haven't felt quite right since Friday night... I get queasy easily and can't eat very much without feeling rather barfy. But enough complaining; on to more interesting observations.


I am still liking my hair, and so is everyone else who I encounter, which just makes life altogether wonderful. I doubt I'll ever go this color again, as the natural black hair gave me more mystery, I think, and this hair gives me more sex appeal. I'm a slut, as you know from my blog, but I'm not slutty enough to pull off a persona like that.

*sigh* Too tired to say anything more of interest. If you need a diversion, check out this link. I love you all.

I just got back from skating 12-3am.. It wasn't so bad. I fell twice cuz I can't skate, but then again, there are a lot of things I don't know how to do.



I learned a couple of things tonight:

1. Pool is a difficult game. I played for the first time tonight and actually scored a couple of times.


2. Things don't happen for you if you aren't assertive.


So.. I like the way that life turns out sometimes. And my hair looks better straightened.

I dunno if you can see the highlights; maybe if you look closely. Send me money so that I can afford a digital camera, please. *hugs you in advance*

It makes me so happy whenever I surpass my expectations of myself and do something totally out of character resulting in fun times. Last night I went to my bf's brother's housewarming and got very wasted, and it ended up being a fun time. Granted, I did barf, like, twice cuz I can't hold my liquor (those of you who know me know that I don't drink at all), but it was still a fun time overall. I remember nearly everything that happened, and that I'm actually quite pleasant when inebriated. Something bothers me about Josh declining to get shitfaced with me, though.. I don't really understand his apprehension about it.



Don't misunderstand me, folks; I'm not proud just because I finally stopped being a "square". It's like there was this list of things in my head that I swore I'd never do because the people who did those things were not the kinds of people I wanted to be. I suppose, in my ignorance, I didn't understand that there is a difference between what you do and who you are. You can still do things responsibly, have a good time, and go back to being you. Having a drink doesn't change who you are, as long as you don't let the pursuit of that consume you. The same goes for eating food, having sex, doing drugs, or having a hustle. Everything in moderation.


I don't believe I am still drunk, but it is taking a long-ass time to get my fingers to match up with what I'm thinking and sometimes things get a little blurry. I think it's just that I need to have somethin' to eat, so I'll ttyl.


And remember, friends: eat, drink, and be merry!

This evening I joined the ranks of the processed when I colored my hair. It wouldn't be so bad if I hadn't gone overboard with the highlighting kit.. so now I have orange streaks in the front.. Quite bad. Maybe they'll grow on me a bit later, but who knows. I haven't yet straightened it and I'm a little afraid to on account of I just subjected it to harsh chemicals..

I'd give you a picture now, but I'm still a little too sensitive. Maybe a couple days/weeks later if the color tones down (that would be heavenly).

I don't really have much other news but that, so... Happy Friday night to you all. I'm gonna blow my hair dry and see if I can fix it to something that's presentable.

How often do you catch a glimpse of the person you used to be? Like before you became complacent, before you learned to say the right thing just to get ahead, before you learned to do things that made you so ashamed you drank, or smoked, or worked until you stopped remembering? How long has it been since you remembered?



When was the last time you felt pure joy, light-headed, light-footed, light-hearted hppiness? When was the last time you were sober and still didn't give a flying fart that people were watching you skip? When did you dance, need, love with abandon, with everything you ever had, and would give more if you could?



I often lose sight of those things and times in my life that might have made me strange to my peers, but made me happy with myself. There used to be a time when I wouldn't let the darkness get me down, a time when I would never have dreamt of wearing black, or sleeping in because I couldn't bear to face my own demons, let alone the rest of the world. I induldged my passions and it was okay; they were pure, simple, girlsh. I wrote furiously, danced, talked, ate chocolate. I never got zits. I never felt naked without a cell phone.



At that point, I never even thought about how awesome a person I was. Since January, though, there's been such a longing to return to the places I've been and recreate the Laura I used to be. Now I realize that could never really make me happy, and even if it could, it'd cost so many of the good qualities that have developed with my maturity. So, maybe incorporating some of that childlike dreamer into the hardcore realist I've become would give my life much-needed balance.



I've also promised myself that I will write whenever the inspiration strikes me.

Whoa, amber is the color of your energy...



I've been feeling so amber these past few days. Flashy, yet introspective and warm. By flashy I maybe mean noticable, as I realize I've been talking a lot in class when I have no clue about the answers. And you know I hate being wrong so it stresses me out and I get more introspective about how it always seems like I'm wrong at the worst possible time.. I dunno. I don't feel like complaining about that much anymore.


On the plus side, I got a B on my chem exam that I took on last night, which is totally freaking awesome because I've never ever in my entire existence as a human being scored as high as a B in anything chem. And this is orgo, the class everyone dreads.. I beat the mean score! WOOHOO! I'm totally floored and thankful to God that He guided me through that test because I seriously had no clue wtf I was doing.. lol. I was so shocked when I got my test back.. it was weird. The first one, if you remember, I got a 40 which happens to be an F. If I can just keep consistent with Bs and As for the rest of the semester (the next two tests) I should be able to get at least a B in this class. I'm so happy and excited! That kind of thing, if nothing else, really colors one's mood amber.



I'm sure I'll bbl to post some more, but for now I'll leave you with Amber

Life is strange. It seems as though the very moment I get over one thing, or at least learn to cope with it, something new surfaces, forcing me to come to terms with the old stuff all over again. It's too personal to share even with my journal at this point, as it's something I don't even think I want to admit to myself yet...



You know what pisses me off? When people figure out some things about my life before I have a clue about it/am ready to admit it. I mean, why are we always blindsided by our epiphanies? It's stupid and pointless and, often, embarrassing.



For a while I was going to counseling here at school. Initially, all it dredged up was old pain that I would rather have forgotten, and then after a while it started getting better. I felt more balanced. And then another pitfall came along and tripped up that wonderful feeling I'd started having. Once again I was plummetted into depression, and it was pretty bad.. I gave up confidence in my counselor and lost all motivation for going. I think it was my mom's reaction partially, when I told her I'd been going. She was like, "You're going to academic counseling, or crazy counseling? Crazy counseling? What's wrong with you?" At that point I suppose I began feeling guilty about it and decided that it was time to end it. I also think that around that time Josh had left Ann Arbor and moved back to Wayne.. I was devastated, naturally, cuz none of my friends have ever moved away, and I've lived in the same house my entire life. And Josh was more than a friend to me.. So I gave up on counseling.



But I think I need to go back. There are too many variables once again and I need someone to help me get a handle on the things that are spinning out of control before I'm tempted to lose control like I've done before.



I'm not crazy, really; there are just some things beyond my control (which I honestly hate admitting).



"There is Nothing Left to Lose".

I totally skipped all my classes today and slept in; can you believe it? Why am I paying hard-earned money to sleep in?! Someone stop me.

I have an orgo test tonight, so I'm going to study. But if you want a pleasing little diversion, check out my new poem by taking a peek at the sordid, (or not-so-sordid). Thanks, you sexy little sluts.

Documenting the squalor... or just lounging around on an early Tuesday morning. This is what I look like after lack of sleep and lots of stress.

I've been moody lately, especially when it comes to small annoyances like being asked the same question over and over. It also could be added stress due to the fact that I had a bio test this evening and I have an orgo exam tomorrow night. I wasn't exactly in the mood to reassure, just to relax and forget about everything during the day.


Then again, I should be thinking of things from Josh's perspective. While I feel it's a bit ungrounded, he's worried about the things I say/write to other people. Given my track record, maybe that's not so outrageous in some respects, but given the fact that I'm mostly saying/writing these things to people I have never met and have no idea about, it shouldnt be so difficult to accept.


I like writing and everything it entails, but I'm not willing to do it as a career. No matter how I ignore it, there's still an irrepressible part of me that responds to a clever manipulation of language. Still, that doesn't mean that I'm going to immediately fall for a sweet talker. My taste is strange, and the lines of today are unimaginitive. Preferably a guy will start up a conversation by doing just that: starting up a conversation. Those seem to be kinds of people I click best with: observationists and stuff. Even so, I've pretty much made my choice in men, so there isn't anything to worry about.


I didn't want to go here tonight, guys, but I don't know if there's anything really worthy of an entire post. I can keep trying, though.


I was really good with my eating tonight, staying away from the fatty stuff and opting for a salad and a lighter dinner than normal. And I think I didn't have one fried thing all day! Last night, on the advice of my brother (who happens to be in the military, currently stationed somewhere in Virginia as of today), I did 10 pushups (and not the girl kind, either!) and 40 situps. I didn't do the two miles like he advised because I positively loathe running, so maybe I'll get over that or something... Or I could do it on the treadmill.. whatever. But I do need to work out so I'm not all flab. Oooh baby I feel the willpower coming back over me finally. Yayness.


I also purchased a denim jacket and two shirts on a whim, which is how I tend to do shopping. Did I tell you I got cute and serviceable panties over the weekend too? So as soon as I'm sure that I can't mess them up with my good friend Aunt Flo I'm soo gonna parade them all over the dorm lol...


There's that good mood I was missing. :) Talk of workouts and shopping helps bring out the best in me. Later, kids.

At various points in the month, often the middle, I have a tendency to get more zits. That's a part of womanhood and hormones that annoys me. The other part of being a woman is rather fascinating. I mean, who knew we could bleed so much and still maintain function at close to normal levels (I say that because during menstruation women are often tired, which might help explain moodiness during the period in addition to moodiness before)?


Did I tell you that my professional goal is to be an obstetrician/gynecologist? Each time I share that with people, it's met with very strange looks. I find physiological processes fascinating, and childbirth is absolutely riveting. Beyond that whole "childbirth is the most beautiful fulfillment of woman's destiny" idea, there's the actual process. I used to watch Maternity Ward and it was so incredible to see the babies and the complications and everything.. I really want that to be my life's work.


I kind of lost the motivation for the rest of this post, so I'll fill it with pointless trivia about myself.



1. What's your favorite feature?
I actually really like my eyes. They're huge, kind of pretty imo. I thought about experimenting with contacts.. maybe I will when I get throwaway cash.


2. What's your favorite type of show?
Cartoons. I live on The Simpsons and Cartoon Network.


3. What's your favorite type of food?
Italian. Tomatoes, garlic, and cheese. Almost orgasmic, baby.


4. What's your favorite color?
Green


5. What's your favorite type of clothing?
Shoes: pointy with high, thin heels= instant sexiness.


6. Jean or Khaki?
Jeans, although for a while I posed as a khaki. Glad I let that go.


7. Favorite season?
Spring, the later the better.. warm enough for a pretty trench coat over jeans.


8. Coke or pepsi?
Pepsi, baby.


9. Pop or soda?
I'm from the midwest. The only soda I know is baking soda.


10. Scenario: You drop food on the floor in your room. Throw it out or dust it off?
Dust that sucka off and down the hatch it goes.


Hope you enjoyed that little bit of info about me. Stay cool, and feel free to copy that little bit of survey to your own stuff if you so choose. I don't really care. Leave love if you like.

I am at Josh's house tonight, as I was last night... we've been doing a lot of it, and I can honestly say I haven't felt like a slut for one minute. That's awesome, to be able to feel love and passion and desire for someone and never have to feel ashamed of it because you truly love him/her, not that you've rationalized it out to yourself so often that it doesn't matter anymore.

I think that lots of people are able to have casual sex without it bothering them because they've given out so many pieces of themselves that there's nothing left to hope to give to anyone in a meaningful relationship. I'd be lying if I said I'd never tried to do that, but it's never worked out for me. That temporary pleasure always--always--gave rise to an unspeakable pain that came later on, when I wasn't expecting it, as I lay in bed thinking about the person I'd want to love for the rest of my life. I'm not saying that casual sex isn't a turn on; I believe I read on Thursday that there's a shrink who prescribes it as a cure for boring sex lives. Still, I've been wondering: is it really worth it? And, at the end of my life, would I rather have a reputation as a philanderer with a whole lot of notches on my bedposts, or would I trade in my title as a slut to be forever with one person?

I've decided that I want all those moments with other people back. I want those pieces of myself back... the ones that are floating around need to belong to me again so that I can give them to the one I love.

Anyways... I got two tests next week, so I'm gonna go chill some more. Tomorrow is study day. Later all.

I don't believe that there's going to be anything worth mentioning today, so here's some pointless trivia about myself to distract you from the fact that this post has nothing interesting going on:


Friday Five
What was...



1. ...your first grade teacher's name?
Mrs. Jefferson, from some island, if I remember correctly. She effectively brainwashed me into believing that recess was a waste of time that detracted from important things, like reading.



2. ...your favorite Saturday morning cartoon?
I loved X-Men, the original one. But then Batman Beyond came on and I fell in love with Terry McGinnis. I actually wanted him to take me to the prom.



3. ...the name of your very first best friend?
Pongee (which is a type of knit fabric I believe) Bryant.




4. ...your favorite breakfast cereal?
three-way tie: Kellog's Frosted Flakes, Captain Crunch's Peanut Butter Crunch, Apple Cinnamon Cheerios.
I eat them all without milk.



5. ...your favorite thing to do after school?
instant message Josh, of course ;)

Enetation was dicking around with my comments too much so I cut them from the team. Squawk box is up next. Less glamorous, I know, but doable. Leave love below.

I actually had a relatively good day today. It happened to involve skipping class, though, which sort of tarnishes the happiness, but ah well. You know, I never noticed just how many nice people are available in the world today if you'll only take advantage of talking to and hanging out with them. Maybe I'm coming out of my weirdgirl stage and becoming a real person.



This guy from my French class asked if I'd like to go Starbuck's with him since he was on his way. Normally, I'd say no because I don't do Starbucks--too commercial for me. I'm a simple gas-station coffee girl. But I went, to be agreeable, and it ended up being really good. I had what I always have when I go to Starbucks: tall caramel machiatto. He had a tall peppermint mocha something or other. Anyway, we stayed for like 2 hours just talking, listening to the awful folk music, and towards the end he showed me the Arabic alphabet. I even practiced writing it a little, and he said it was legible, hehe. It was good, and completely innocent, which made it more fun because I didn't have to worry about doing that constipation thing with my face at all. We should do it again soon.. I'll ask him next week.



Anyways, since I had missed bio, I trucked off to the chem building for orgo discussion. It went well, and I didn't feel immensely stupid (only slightly so). One of my classmates Brynne asked me to study with her, so we went and had lunch at my dorm and then went to the library for a couple of hours until she had to leave for class. She's nice and so shockingly beautiful that I'd be immensely jealous if she weren't so nice. So alas, I can only admire her.



I studied about an hour after she left, then decided I better make it home before I fell asleep there in the library, and here I am. I need to go back out and study some more for tomorrow because our wonderful prof is holding a review session where she's going to go over the entire coursepack... she's awesome. I might not catch you later, so wish me happy studying, bloggy dear.

I've hooked you up with a link to a place where I'll keep all my poetry and prose ramblings. Soon there'll be a comments feature where you can tell me exactly what you think of stuff in no uncertain terms. Keep in mind, however, that all criticism that falls short of constructive will be shoved up your ass. ;)


Today was pretty uneventful. I attended all classes on time, and felt somewhat smart in some of them. Shockingly enough, we had a decent guest speaker in Women's studies this afternoon as well. Woot. And after I got home, my inclinations to go work out were once again thwarted by this unmistakable call for laziness by my computer. You know I'm not one to ignore either of the idiot boxes, so more calories just piled up. It's all good, though, cuz I did get some studying done later on this evening.


Umm.. I think I'm all written out on account of that little prosal creation, so this one's gonna end a bit early. I'll have more slutty blog for you to suck on tomorrow, darlings. Stay cool.

There is something truly rank in our mini-fridge. Before class this morning I stopped and took out all the fruit that had been in there since January 21, but that doesn't seem to have helped anything much. I'm sure they didn't turn out the power over spring break, either, so what else could there be that smells so bad even though the fridge door is closed?


In other, non-barfy news, I've noticed that when people are seeking to impress, they do weird things. Today, for instance, I observed this huge cute guy passing these girls, and they sort of did this thing with their faces, sort of like "I'm pretty and I'm trying not to try too hard" all in one look, which ended up twisting their mouths a bit into something that's not quite like a smirk but not a smile either. One eyebrow raised a tad bit and they sort of sucked their cheeks in subconsciously. Come to think of it, that look could also be described as constipation. I hope that we as women don't particularly intend to look that way when guys pass us, but who knows? Maybe some guys think that a look that screams, "Gimme some of that Ex-lax, baby" is rather sexy.


Don't you just love it when the weather warms up enough for you to shake the dust off your leather, shed the sweaters and get back into gauzy fabrics again? I sort of like this in between season thing... Josh's love of t-shirts has rubbed off on me a little, I think, cuz every time I wear one I think of him. People are spending more time outside, which is great for a people-watcher like me. They're so intersting to look at, and many times I find my greatest inspiration for stories or short pieces from watching a couple holding hands or arguing, or just a group of friends having fun. Maybe it makes me a bit of a lunatic too, though. But I don't really mind that much.


I also wanted to say that Josh's mom is really sweet. I left my wallet out there in Wayne and she drove all the way here after work to bring it to me... She also brought me a gas-station coffee cuz she knows Josh and I love it. What a sweet lady! I just adore her (even though I'm slightly scared of her, hehe, but I guess all girls feel that way about their bf's mother).


Anyways, it appears I'm feeling springy on the inside, kids. Care to take advantage of my good mood?

Current Music: Nickelback's "Woke Up this Morning"


I slept about 4 hours last night, but I'm not tired. I actually downloaded a great movie: Quentin Tarantino's "Kill Bill: Volume 1" with a kickass Uma as the heroine. The subtle parody of all Japanese/Chinese fight style movies wasn't lost on me, and there was dramatically more blood as there should have been whenever someone was killed. But then again, if you watch Tarantino, you've got to expect swears and lots and lots of blood. Still, no movie has had as much blood as I saw in "The Passion...", so make sure you see that as well. Yeah, I'm shamelessly plugging Mel Gibson's movie..

On another subject entirely, I often wonder why it's so easy to fall behind in the middle of the semester. I keep telling myself that I won't slack off this time (Current Music: Janet Jackson's "We Go Deep") but I still do it anyway. No matter what I try to do to keep myself motivated, I end up tired and lazy by mid-semester. Something's gotta change, though, because there's no way I need to be doing anybody's surgery when I'm in such a funk.

Another project that's in the works for me is a more rigorous weight-loss regimen. In fewer than 5 months I'll be sunning myself on an Aruba beach, darkening my year-round tan (I happen to be Black, lol). But there's nothing sexier, in my opinion, than a turquoise situated against rich brown.. I'll be living the dream in my turquoise bikini which I have yet to find at any store. If you've got any diet tips or weight loss plans you think'd work for me, send me links or emails. Naturally, this regimen includes exercise at the IMSB, so if you're up for accompanying me, that'd also be cool.
I have class in a half hour, so ttyl.

Current Music: American Hi-Fi's "Another Perfect Day"

I felt terrible yesterday, talking to Josh, but then, inevitably, our words started to make sense to ourselves and each other, I guess, and I ended up in Wayne last night, greeting him in the parking lot of his apartment complex. We went in and watched television, and he kissed me unexpectedly, making me want to turn off the tv and go to bed early, so we did. We finally gave each other a chance and magic happened. I fell asleep, surrounded in his scent.


I had no idea that anyone could love me, put up with my constant bullshit, console me in each and every meltdown (which seem to be getting more frequent lately), and want to make me happy as much as Josh does. I was miserable on Friday and Saturday without him, feeling so guilty and angry with myself, and then I was a bitch to him but he still took me in his arms and told me that he loved me... like when he did his voice broke and I heard it in his heart as we rocked together... I wanted to cry.


I have always imagined that the person I would want to be with forever would look different than he does, say all these flowery, poetic things to win my heart. I imagined that he would be a charmer with my parents and a person, generally, who could just get along with anyone. But you know, I would loathe any person like that. Josh is real to me. He dresses for comfort, he's less than charming with people he doesn't give a damn about, and he doesn't say much. But when he does open his mouth, in all seriousness, he says what comes from his heart. Do you remember what Denzel told Ethan in " Training Day"? He said something along the lines of when he had a young bride himself he had love coming out of his eyes. Well, Josh has love coming out of his eyes for me, and I have been too dumb, too blinded by my own pain and consumption with longing to be beside him all the time to remember that the only person in the world who really matters to him is me... He's half crazy with love for me, and our separation is hard on both of us, not just me.

What a selfish fool I have been in the past. And what have I done to deserve someone so wonderful?

I will give up the life of a slut just to be with him forever. I could go on, but I think I've said enough. I love you, Josh, and thank you so much for loving me first.