thoughs
I don't really want to go home. I love it here. Bad food and all.
I really, really enjoyed Watchmen. The book and the film.
I dropped my computer and had to get my hard drive replaced. All my movie soundtracks are gone! I'm very upset .
Also, someone had sent me Microsoft Word through a file transfer, since macbooks don't come with them and they're quite expensive..and I don't remember who had sent me it, but it would be absolutely phenomenal if I could get that again somehow.
I'm glad the weather is getting better. I'm still mad at myself for smoking cigarettes, but I've cut down a bit. I really hope to have my car when I come back from spring break. I think too much. Pirates of the Carribean is on, the first one. I love it. It never really gets old. I have to do so much work this week, and laundry too, and I'm really procrastinating. One of my suitemates, who I probably get along with the best here, has a dickhead boyfriend who called me a cunt because he's jealous of our friendship. I hate knowing my friends don't have the backbone to defend themselves or to be walked all over. I love my mice, I need more bedding and food for them.
I am conflicted about telling my boyfriend if I love him or not, partly because I don't know if I do, but I always feel compelled to tell him I do. It's strange. I'm afraid the summer won't be kind to us, since he lives in the city and I feel like we would never have any alone time. I am so insecure it's pathetic and unsettling.
Lee, Melanie, Molly and I applied for on campus apartments next year and got them. I'm beyond happy at the prospect of having my own kitchen and apartment. La la la. I got an A on my first story for my Creative Writing class, and my teacher sent me an email saying he thought I was an extraordinary writer, and that I was so talented, and all this gushy stuff that made me feel great. I really needed that, because at this point in my life I'm terrified that I'm not good at anything. I'm really really scared. I mean, really.