long day

It's all strange.
I hope I didn't do too badly on my astronomy exam yesterday. I'm nervous even thought I studied a lot. Yesterday was just such a long damn day.

I keep dreaming about my professor, and I don't know why.

The radio has been kind to me. 107.7 is now all 80s music all the time, All kinds of 80s music. This morning I've heard Madonna, The Police, Prince, Depeche Mode, REM, and a ton of other songs I've not heard in ages. It's good. Very good.

I have a headache now. So I should stop writing and do some of the housework I've been putting off. Vacuum and clean up the piles of papers and books in my living room.

i want to be 5 again for a few minutes

Oh Bruce Springsteen on the radio. God. I had a Bruce Springsteen tape as a child. The first tape I ever thought of as mine, though my parents bought it. I used to listen to it on the radio while I rode my Strawberry Shortcake bike up and down the sidewalk or played in the bed of my father's green Ford truck.

I hear songs, like "We didn't start the fire" and "Dancing with myself" and these moments I have touched in years come back to life. Oh how wonderful. Thank you person who changed the radio. I needed this right now.

Talked with Patrick for a little while today. I miss him so much. I miss being able to talk with him in the car, over meals. I have to save all those conversations for letters and email so we don't run up the phone bills. I want to talk about current events, books, music, religion, things. That is one of the few things I don't get enough of from my friends. School saves me. If I didn't have the pleasure of talking with my classmates and my professors I might go crazy. Not that my friends don't talk about these things. We just don't do much of it. Since we all read, you think we could talk about books. I think I annoyed them when I mentioned this last night.

Thinking I might drag out my needles and thread, practice my stitching for awhile. Today is good for it. I just want to feel like I'm accomplishing something.

(no subject)

There is a haze of incense, the smell mixed witht he aroma of new bread cooling on my counter. I ate the first end of the loaf, the soft puff part peeking over the top of the pan. I spent an hour soaking in the bath reading I Served The King of England by Bohumil Hrabal. Professor P. gave me this book when I was taking her Nabokov class so many semesters ago. Back when she was first beginning to lure me into the wonderful world of all things Czech. So I'm clean and warm and happy.