Straight No Chaser

Xenograft

i am so crafty! pretending to be understanding and loose, letting things ride, when in fact i am (sneakily) (but completely) getting my way, with this phone thing. and i am pleased about it.

and: i received, today, a package from ohio, and it was the best package ever. the. best. complete with the best letter ever (contrary to earlier assertions that mine had earned that title), perfectly legible and accented with gorgeous drawings. i've been reading calvin and hobbes all day. wearing orange, a color that not generally featured in my drab post-adolescent wardrobe. loving the letter. loving it.

this is my journal, and i am allowed to say whatever i want, in it. and right now, what i am saying is that i think aaron and i are doing quite well; i think we are actualizing the very reason for which we were sent into each other's lives--kicking its ass, really, in true overachievers' spirit. reading the letter, absorbing its quirky self-deprecation, my only frustration was in not having the voice attached, having to add that dimension myself. this may be the return of letter-writing, a deeply underappreciated pastime, and one that deserves rekindling. best letter ever.

so good, in fact, that i got out of bed two hours ago, sick and puking, to the point where no amount of ginger ale has done me any good. hopefully i'm above accidental pavlovian conditioning, because i'd hate to think that i'll read this letter someday and feel nauseous by association. because i will read it again. and again.

so crafty am i. though i'm probably jinxing myself, and will now suffer days and days of the dreaded phone curse. i should learn to ever shut up.

even with this whole barfing thing, this has been, definitely, one of the loveliest days of my winter break. to all parties responsible, a thousand times thank you.

asterisk asterisk asterisk asterisk asterisk.

having just reached the end of a four-hour conversation centered on donnie darko, and being as i am very much haunted by its soundtrack, score, and certain particularly pervasive images, plus the fact that i just really really adore that movie, i need to purge some of that adoration here, because it will not let me sleep. currently running through my head is that intense gregorian hum from the movie theater sequence, which is a little unsettling, but reminding me, if nothing else, of the moment at which i first recognized the movie's gigantic religious symbolism.

"it's on some transcendentalist shit," is how marcus so articulately put it. his lack of eloquence notwithstanding, he's pretty much right. donnie's whole "i don't debate it anymore" thing reminded me of how frustrated i get, trying to prove, through logic of all things, that i don't qualify as an "agnostic," because i don't not believe. i'm a transcendentalist too, if a slightly less mature one. i differentiate religion from spirituality. and i don't do so well with the former. i just. don't. have tried. don't. the rest is a long story. but the movie kicks ass. someday we'll all watch it together. it will be our way of separating the men from the proverbial boys, so to speak. who belongs, who doesn't.

asterisk.

love this letter.

princess aquamarina, signing off.