God oh god oh god.

*Sighs* I wanna get to Columbia, have my own room again, be away from my parents where I can just... get away from everything. Have people call me Lee.  Go to a cafe if I need to.  Walk around the city even if it's fucking dangerous and I'll probably get myself hurt or killed in the first three days on my own.

Betsy's trapped on campus here at MIT--poor baby.

Miss you Katie. So much.  I wish I'd gone to the Fitzwilliam--somehow I never managed it.  Wish we'd had more time.  And I wish we had finished that godsbedamned puzzle.  I still remember how it looked on Alexis's balcony, and the view from it.  The view of our stage, and of my tree with it's little moss-covered lounge.

...and I think I'm going to do something soon I'll regret like nothing else I've regretted in my life.  And I wish I didn't have to.  But... Betsy said today she thinks I'm right too, and she actually understands social stuff.  And... I've heard I'm right before this, and I'm not hormonal anymore, and even if my meds have stopped working by now as I think they have... they were working when I talked to Betsy.  And I still wanted to break down crying.  And I still can't believe I'm going to have to do this and I kind of hate myself for it and for my godsblessed principles or whatever the fuck they are and for caring just a little too much.  I always seem to care too much... or not at all.  And there... really just isn't anyone to talk to.  Betsy helped--it's nice having an actual friend at school.  But... it's not the same. And there's things she can never understand.  And they're the things that matter at the moment.

And I can't cry with my parents here.

I think I lost Serenity.  Dunno when, dunno how... but it's not there anymore.

Flying solo.  ...but flying free, I guess...

In re a conversation with Dad today regarding Xeno's third paradox, the empiricists, a song from Into the Woods, and Thief of Time, I have to wonder... See, the empiricists wondered how, if life is made of many tiny instantaneous moments, we can have any perception of continuity.  Sondheim restates it in a different, refutative sort of way: "But if life were only moments, then you'd never know you had one."  Pratchett deals with the problem by giving a snapshot of such a moment, when Jeremey turns on his glass clock--how it's a moment, but without time, there's no life, which is one of the arguments against why an arrow can be both in motion and at rest (the paradox of Xeno being that if you look at the arrow "at one moment," within in that moment it is at rest--but that moment also stops time, so motion basically isn't applicable anyway).  It also comes up in the way that Mort and Ysabelle turn down immortal existence--it's outside time, so it's not life--and why the anthropomorphic personifications who spend Time down among humans develop such human characteristics.  With Wen's theory that the universe remakes itself in every moment, and Time has to... store itself up to that point... basically, the question is, "What is memory?"

That's the question of Thief of Time.  My question, conversely, is... why is memory so strong?  If every moment's new, if the universe renews itself with its every heartbeat... why does it still make you want to cry?

EDIT: The thing about me? I'm incredibly friendly and open in some ways--I can talk to anyone about anything for incredible lengths of time.  But I'm introverted.  I don't give my trust that easily--I don't give my heart or pieces of me that quickly.  The thing about me? I need to trust completely before giving certain things.  The thing about me? It's hard to tell if I trust that much, because I'm friendly.  It's why I can never kepe friends for long.  I can't trust enough to spend the time. And then, sometimes, I do.

The trick is to tell the difference.

Well, I'm back.

I thought of that subject because of the puzzle.

We started working on a puzzle together.

I don't it will ever be finished, now.  Or not by us.

The unfinished puzzle.

The Unfinished Puzzle.

I need to write that someday, as a story.

Oh, right! Play went well, and I have a lovely new shirt.  And a ratty new shirt.  And random pants, and a waist coat.  Yes, a waist coat.  And a tie.  I am Joanne, hear me roar! ...Except that I like men.  Mmmm.  Saw a guy without his shirt today, and boy was he ripped.  *happyhum* That was really, really lovely.

Anyway.

Lost the lens cap to my camera, but I'll live, I have a filterthing.  That'll get scratched first.  And I can use a sock.  *beams*

Anyway.  Wearing my waistcoat tonight; I'll have someone take a picture of me.

Aubreydear, I'll give your cell a call when I land, 'kay? *loves on*

I think I'll go feel dead now.

Well.

Play's today.

'Scuseme while I go die.

(Seemingly anyone who looks at me can see me playing Puck.)

I would like to point out how many subjects I can cover in a very, very short period of time.  Anyway.

*breaky now* Omigod, Aubrey, your story just about killed my brain.  *flails at him*  Hey... did Nate ever find out about that?  *half hopes not, half hopes for a couple front row tickets and popcorn if she did*  Anyway.

That's... most everything.

*sleepysighblink* I need to go soon, and then go find a tie and Mind the Gap shirts for my parents.  I don't have rehearsal until 11am.  Fun.

Anyway.

*back to reading depressing story about Tyrone trying to die now*

Well.  Play is tomorrow... and I have a Mind The Gap shirt.  *happy* And also, I have music for Spamalot and DRS.  *Sigh* I have spent WAY too much money.  I just need to get a couple people presents, and I'm done.

Anyway.

And I'm now... very tired. And I have lots of rehearsal stuff.

Seemingly I have more energy than anyone Mel knows.  *flattered*

Also? I sang Into the West at Open Mic night, and people liked it. *flattered*

Also? Have you ever tried picturing a character you usually see in their 30s/40s when they're older, realize they need glasses or have grey hair or something, and crack up and find it one of the cutest things ever? That happened to me earlier.  Mainly the glasses bit.  It made me laugh so much.

And I have a David-Martin thing to write as soon as I... like... stop being a burnout.

Well.  I have a bit to catch up on.

MONDAY: The highlight?  Rehearsal at 8pm.  First of all, I missed hearing Don Winslow speak.  DAMN.  But then...

RAIN.  Lots of rain.  Late at night.  And cold.

And do you know something?  THE SHOW MUST GO ON.  So it did.  And we did.  And it was amazing.

TUESDAY: Don Winslow talked to us specially in Drama class.  'Twas loverly.  We did rehearsal that evening, and man was it good.  I did good.  *beams*

TODAY: Shit, I had to hand in a portfolio for CW.  And did I know? No! So I wrote a four page story, finished a really long short story, and put them and two other stories together to make a fifteen page addition to my pitiful portfolio.  Heh.  And now I have Stansa niGlen/Constance Glen to worry about.  (She goes by Glen.)

Oh, and her Dennis.  *pets the Dennis.*

Oh, and we totally didn't rehearse.  It's been like... 13 degrees Celcius today.  Love.  And rainy.  I bought myself sandals, partly for Puck (really for Puck) but they're so nice, and a little big, and I'm happy. *happysigh* And I'm wearing them with wool socks.  Heh.

Done now.  Really.

Aubrey? WRITE ME THE FLAILY! *happybeam* I love your flaily things.

Well.

Three rehearsals tomorrow.  Joy of joys.  *shoots self now*

STORMBREAKER = LOVE!!!!!!!!!

OMIGOD

CUTE BOY! SATIRE! CUTE BOY! WITH BRITISH ACCENT! STEPHEN FRY! JIMMY CARR! ANDY SERKIS! CUTE BOY WITH BLOND HAIR!

And most of all?

CUTE SHOT OF BLOND BOY WITH SLIGHTLY TALLER RED-HAIRED MAN!

I will leave it to your discretion to figure out why I squeed so much about this lovely, lovely picture.  *pets on him* (Although, admittedly, there was some dialogue that could totally be taken in the wrong way.  In the very gay sort of way.)

But... ZOMIGODSQUEE.

And he'd been living with his uncle, very secretive man 'cause he was a spy, and he trained the kid, and.... WOW

*LOVES ON ALEX RIDER NOW*

*cue groans from Lee's characters*

So yeah.  That's... that.  Um.

Also! Two quid shoes for the play! *beams* 

Also, working on a drabble.  Probably doubledrabble or something.  Will try to finish it and have it up.

EDIT: Make that short story.  'Scute.

Well.  Warwick Castle is my love.  *loves on the place so freaking much*

And... um.

Nearly hurt my shoulder today in rehearsal.  Oops.

I'm gonna have lots of rehearsal next week, so I may be off a lot.  Also? Back on the 6th.

God.  So little time.

I love England, I really do...

Would anyone be willing to throw over New York after a few years, five, six, ten maybe, and come with me to England? Please?

And... it's... odd.  But... it'd be really nice to have a kid, you know? Not... more than one, I think, but... just... a kid.  Preferably a girl.  Just a nice little girl to raise and a nice guy.

Someone predicted there will be more divorces in our generation 'cause our guys suck.  Seriously, they do.  In the US, I mean.  Which is why I need a British guy to marry.  Seriously. Preferably tall, as I like tall guys, and then maybe my kids wouldn't suffer the ignominity of legal midget status. And preferably Scottish.  No, not blond you freaks.  I mean, if he's cute I won't complain by any stretch of the imagination, but still. And shut up about it. I like Scots. Just... shut the hell up.  

Anyway.   That's my random philosophical moment of the day.

Yeah.

And I'm gonna write today.  Fun.  And I swear I mean it this time, I swear I do.

Stop not believing me.

Right.

Well.

Something momentous happened.  But I forget what.  Anyway.

Wow.

I won't be here tomorrow, btw.

Any ideas on what Puck should look like?

Also, I can totally play a recorder.  Anyhoo.

Also? Nate is so freaking cute we love her and squee.

*goes to be murdered now*

People?

Not a likable group, as a whole.

Actually, I think I'd like to kill them for the most part at the moment.  Mainly the ones who would make me do stupid quiz things and drive me crazy.  I gotta go soon, 'fore it gets dark, but...

UGH.

PEOPLE.

Let me say this, though: when the random teacher for Studio Art that you have for today shows you the Chinese character for "ming", also known as the combination sun and moon, also known as the adjective "bright"...

THEN

THEN you know your life and world are screwed up.

Also when Israel is being a bloody monster and the US and Tony Blair are damn fools and there's no where to go, and...

I want to go home.  But not to Houston-home.  Just... home.  Where ever it is that is my actual... home.  It's not here, it's not Houston, and so far I dunno if it's NYC.  But there's home out there somewhere, and it's calling me, and I want to go back, butI don't know where back is.

I think I'm looking for Serenity.

Also, I think I need to stay away from Andrew Astin for a while.  His solution to the world's problems is currently looking attractive.  Very, very attractive.

I escaped from the Quiz Night thing.  Slipped out while some people were standing in the door. I need to apologize to that boy.  But god, I hate those things.  Ughughugh.

Today is bad.

On the upside, Hugh Laurie? Playing the idiot Prince Regent? Hilarity.

I think I'll eat a pint or so of ice cream when I get back.  And write.  Write the torture/death scene.  Fun.

Zanir thinks I'm nuts for that, but hey, he's biased. *blinks* ...Zanir?  WTF?  That's his name?

Okay.

Everyone, my official hero-status character is now Prince Zanir.  And there's Glen and Dennis too.

And... Um... Professor William Stafford, his wife Elizabeth, and... Um... Nancy and Laura are their daughters.  Their son that died would have been named Xavier.

Ignore my ramblings.