Its funny how when your classes are over, you really don't know if you'll see your classmates ever again, and so I said to Katie the other night, "Well, have a good life." Although this is a very small town in someways and it is quite possible that you will run into them again unless they move to Europe or California. But then, you could possibly run into them in Disneyland. It's happened before. I've at least seen Casey three times this semester on campus, and he'd been the one last year to tell me, "Okay, have a good life, and walked out of Building D on Murray Campus.
I was thinking about it during the last train ride with Luke, and how I probably wouldn't ever see him again, but I'd meet the same guy a few more times before I graduate. I'll have several more boyfriends to ride the trains with, or talk about Norma Jean concerts in Ogden, or be upset about Spanish with.
So....so long Luke, and Katie with the tattoos and there was Charles whom I had loved a year ago in ENGL 2500, or William that I went to the Art Barn with who was tall and had smart glasses, and I could never tell if he was all the way straight...
I will meet you again, or I will not meet you, and no hard feelings.

One day, as I was playing reruns of her in my head, rereading all the notes she'd written me in short and sporadic meter and thought, I wondered if maybe she knew she was crazy. That she'd realized long ago that it worked for her, whether or not a person could appreciate her the same way I could, because they would at least like her, if not love her the same way I do. Her hair kept changing color, and maybe I couldn't reach out for her, but she'd still be there with her eyes open wide and her laughter would wake me up after I'd been awake for hours.
Whether she knows still, that she is crazy, I don't really know and I'll quit caring. But I can't stop loving it from hours and hours away.

"Is this the way that my life was supposed to play out, Liz? The kid who paid his way through Princeton by working day shifts at the graveyard, and graveyard shifts at that Days Inn?"
-Jack on 30 Rock

For a minute yesterday, I forgot the word leg.
This is not as bad as 3 days of forgetting the word jar, but leg is a word you use a lot more frequently than jar.
I kept poking my leg, on TRAX, thinking "Pants? Pants. Pants." Getting frustrated cuz that couldn't be the right word. I started saying it out loud, hoping it would come to me. Pants. Pants? "When I wake up in the morning, I put my jeans on my....pants," I whispered. Nope. Wait, leg. The word is leg. I put my pants on my legs.

I'm doing a little better today now that I had so much sleep. But seriously.