Not sleepy, but physically tired. The air feels thicker than usual, and requires much more effort to cleave through.

I played in the softball game today. I didn't bat as well as I'd hoped, but fielded pretty well, and pulled off a solo double play. The long, hot shower afterwards felt exquisite.

My brother called me tonight, and we talked for a while. It felt really good to chat with him about what'd been going on and plans for the future.

I can sleep moderately contently tonight.

Tunes: "Shelter Your Needs," Juliette and the Licks (iTMS only); "Mountain Dew," The Clancy Brothers (iTMS).

Thinking a lot tonight about leaving and missing people. I'm going to be around for either three whole months or only three months, depending on what sort of mood I'm in. A sincere thank you to everyone who's been so blatantly honest (and amusing) about the absence I'll leave.

I should not dare to leave my friend,
Because—because if he should die
While I was gone, and I—too late—
Should reach the heart that wanted me;
If I should disappoint the eyes
That hunted, hunted so, to see,
And could not bear to shut until
They “noticed” me—they noticed me;
If I should stab the patient faith
So sure I ’d come—so sure I ’d come,
It listening, listening, went to sleep
Telling my tardy name,—  
My heart would wish it broke before,
Since breaking then, since breaking then,
Were useless as next morning’s sun,
Where midnight frosts had lain!

--Emily Dickinson

Tunes: "In This Diary," The Ataris (iTMS)

A button fell off of a pile of books on my desk and landed underneath my lamp, sending a ray of searing light into my eyes. Moments later, my eyes had adjusted, and I could see again just fine, but the experience started a train of thought that I'd like to share. It has to do with acceptance. As the story goes, Saul was dead set on finding, persecuting, and killing every follower of Jesus's he could find. That is, until one day God shone a dazzling light onto Saul, blinding him, and instructed him on how he should live his life from then on out. Saul went along with this readily, presumably because he had just received explicit and direct career counseling from the Almighty, in a rather dramatic way. The rest of us tend not to have it so easily. While God does help guide us along our live's paths, our missives from on high tend not to be as clear-cut or have quite the same flair as Saul's. At the times when I can tell that I'm supposed to have my digital ham radio set to "receive" and not "transmit," the messages are either cryptic to the point of being barely decipherable or retrospective. It's hard to be open to God's will in our lives when it's not specifically clear what God's will IS. If it were clear across the board, then there wouldn't be fragmentation or schisms or any sort of division among the fellowship of Christ, because we wouldn't have anything to argue about (on a theological plane, anyway). Instead, we are left with our own interpretations, and must do out best to reconcile our interpretations with one another's, because that is a part of God's will that IS clear and specific: that we should love our neighbor as ourselves. As a phrase, it sounds very simple. But egotistical creatures that we are, it is one of the hardest tasks that we can endeavor to undertake. I'm going to take a step off to one side for a minute to make this analogy. God is like a sports coach. The good, encouraging kind, not the kind that berates you if you don't make a goal/basket/base hit/whatever sport you follow. God is the coach who, even after you miss that crucial kick, cheers for you and congratulates you and takes you out for pizza for giving it your all. We can earn that coach's respect, in a very simple but challenging way: playing nice and doing our best with what we have.

See you out on the field.

Tunes: "God Only Knows," The Beach Boys (iTMS); "Superman," Five For Fighting (iTMS); "I Want To Be A Christian," The Proclaimers (Real Audio stream).

I'm feeling really messed up right now. I'm not sure why, or what, or any of that. I'm just thinking too hard, and then I recognize that I'm thinking too hard and then I don't think at all and let the feelings pull me under until I start thinking about them again. If I knew what I was doing I could make something out of it. Zach Braff took this kind of stuff and made one of the greatest films I've ever seen, "Garden State." Ben Folds took this kind of stuff and made an aural tragedy, "Brick." Mark Tansey took this kind of stuff and made bold statements about humanity, as in "Triumph Over Mastery II." What will I do? Will I make something worthwhile out of my confusion? Or will I simply sit and weather the placid storm?

I remember when I first got to know her three years ago, at a party of Heather's. We were playing CatchPhrase, and her phrase was "call girl." We both turned bright red: she in embarassment, I in sheepish pride for having guessed it so rapidly.

I remember so many nights spent with her and Mark, sitting and talking about anything and nothing and everything in between.

I remember her indignation when she found out that I was spending Easter weekend on my own, and how rapidly she drove the hour-plus commute just to get me and bring me back to her house to decorate eggs with the family.

I remember first encountering Nikita, who at the time was expressing her displeasure with ATLA.

I remember learning just what she meant when she said that watching baseball on TV is "an audience participatory sport."

I remember defining the structure of our bizarre family, cementing very real and close relationships in a physically confusing family tree.

I remember many highs and lows, and I remember much more than she probably wants me to, what with awards night coming up soon. ^_^

Soon I will have new memories, of the beginning of the end for this particular stretch of the road she's traveling. I'm just grateful I've been able to walk with her for so long.

I'm proud of you, Jane.

Si has actually chosen a college! Ladies and gentlemen (and the rest of you), may I have your attention, please:

*drumroll*

He will be studying at Marlboro College in beautiful rural Vermont! Let's give him a big hand, folks!

*APPLAUSE*

Tunes: "You Don't Know," Reel Big Fish (iTMS); "ABC-DEF-GHI," Big Bird (for Susie) (wma stream); and "I'm A Believer," Smash Mouth (iTMS).

Not much to say, I'm afraid... I'm fairly writ out. I've been churning out an essay for a scholarship application that has to be all set and on its way within the week, so that's taken up most of my verbal energy.

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Another acceptance! Emerson College in lovely downtown Boston wants me. Very, very, badly, if the financial aid package is any indication. Very, very, VERY badly.

To celebrate, I went out with some friends to see Frank Miller's Sin City. All I ahve to say about that is DANG. An absolutely stunning work of art.

So, life is good. Even though Pippa stuffed my shoes this morning.

Tunes: "For Boston," Dropkick Murphys.