dumb kid...

Sometimes it hits me how much I don't know and don't understand about the world, about people, about myself.

Especially about myself.

Here I sit at a table in a kitchen-in-progress, staring out the window at the trees being slapped around by the gusts of wind, and I ask myself, "How do you feel?"

It's a perplexing question, one that confuses me about as much as it confused Spock in Star Trek IV: The Voyage Home. The question comes again and again, a tinny computer voice asking "How do you feel? How do you feel? How do you feel?"

Well, computer voice -- I don't know how to answer that question.

Parker would say, "That's not an answer." To which I would respond, "But I don't have an answer. I can't figure one out."

"So talk."

I don't like talking about things that I can't make sense of.

"How do you feel?"

sad.
empty.
listless.
scared.
tired.
apathetic.
weak.
confused.
lost.
useless.
vulnerable.
childish.

In a lot of ways, I feel out of control. I feel sick inside, because I don't know what's going on in my heart. I don't know what I want. I don't even care half the time anymore.

I don't want to go home. I don't want to go back to everything that's there.

But I don't want to stay.

what the Idaho?

I've been to Idaho before. But I don't remember it being the way it is today.

Granted, I don't even remember that trip to Idaho because I was, liiiiiike...two? Maybe younger? All I remember of that adventure comes from the stories people tell me, and the abundance of photographs in the basement showing me talking to a bronze statue of a little boy.

Funny how stories and photographs can become memories in our heads of events that we participated in, but don't actually recall.

But that's beside the point.

Idaho is, in my opinion, a weird place. The main reason?

There are no mountains.

Seriously. Compared to the real mountains at home, these lumps of rocks are tiny. There's so much open space here, so much so that I actually feel uncomfortable. As I sat in the passenger seat of Ann's car, she laughed at me because I scrunched myself up in a ball and said, "It's just so open." Really, though. I'm digging my little bedroom because it feels safe. Not only is it about five times warmer in here this morning than it is outside (yesterday was surprisingly warm -- Provo was colder), it also has walls and a ceiling and a door.

Safe. Loving this room.

Just for the heck of it, I did a Google search, which led me to agoraphobia: "a condition where the sufferer becomes anxious in environments that are unfamiliar or where he or she perceives that they have little control. Triggers for this anxiety may include wide open spaces, crowds (social anxiety), or traveling (even short distances)" (Wikipedia).

What the heck -- that definition describes me so well it's a wee bit scary. As in, three for three.

Anyway. Idaho is grand. But I'm very glad that I'm not here by myself, and that Ann likes my company. It'll be a good weekend.

Can't wait to go back home.

it's been a day...

I have discovered that if I get to campus 45 minutes before my classes start, I can get a parking spot near the bell tower, which cuts off almost half of the walk to my building from the parking lot. Which, all things considered, is very helpful for me right now.

My professor handed back the exams from last week. I got a B+. Considering I was praying for a C, I did fairly well.

Did 8 tutorials today -- which is a lot less than I usually do during a four hour shift. I've learned that if you take longer with a single student, you can explain things better for them and you do fewer tutorials throughout a shift (no crap, Sherlock). All the same...this job is exhausting.

Mom took me to lunch at the wrap shop on campus. Strawberry Fields wrap equals deliciousness.

There's a(nother) dress at the book store that I want. Note to self: stay away from the clothing sections in the book store. Or, stay out of the book store period.

Anthropology was a silent affair. Literally. Sat there for 39 minutes with no one speaking, and then one person timidly commented on something from the reading. Nothing for another 4 minutes. Then a second timid comment, after which the professor got up and left. The Quakers' practice of silent meetings is really getting to us.

2 hour study group after school and work for the next American Studies exam on Wednesday. Karina and Nelly are fantastic.

Bad and frustrating news from doctors -- I really dislike this whole mess.

My sister took me to Cafe Rio with her tonight -- such happiness. We talked about how stupid and confusing boys are. It was therapeutic. We both enjoyed ourselves immensely.

Going to Idaho on Thursday this week. Watch out, Rexburg. Gonna party all weekend long...with my textbooks and sleeping pills.

Oh, and I got stuck in the elevator today. Tried to walk out and found myself slammed into the back wall. Yeah -- my backpack strap had gotten caught on the handrail. Whatever.