Tuesday, November 10, 2009

Dear Journal:

So this semester is moving along far, far, far, too quickly. I feel like I’m standing on the side of the road watching my life whiz by without me, uhm, “hey life heeeeey!?” remember me? You’re leaving me out of all of your decision making, you’re running the program without consultation, I don’t know what you’re doing and its hurting my head, also my heart. People can be the best blessing, or the most awful part of life. Just me, being a dramatic joke-maker, only not joking, heh, heh....

Basically, I couldn’t study because I have a lot of things in my head, so I vomited them out on here and sent them to you. Don’t think I’m weird, don’t not be friend anymore pleasssse. Come to Maestro’s and drink hot chocolate with me and Erin. Actually, no thanks Maestro’s your hot chocolate is cold and additionally, has a strong resemblence to Swiss Miss. Erin got a really cute apartment across from Key bank down by Smitty’s in the upstairs of one of those old Victorian houses, it’s really neat, lots of cool architecture in there and the windows are shaped in like arabic terrets and it has these wonderful walls of strange proportions. I’m happy for her, she is so cute when she is happy and looks like a little Asian lady in her brown trench coat who smiles too much, and laughs so much. Abi got a minivan, oh yes, 7 passengers, me, Brock, Erin, Kiren, Brooklyn = rave in an Odyssey.

In other news, Kara and I went to DI in Sugarhouse on Saturday and its three-stories, and we got the best purchases of 2009, floral dresses, a jazzy cardigan with gold decal, plenty of sweaters and shirts with shoulder pads, loafers, headbands, endless supplies of cheap outcast clothing that needed some TLC, I felt like Madonna going to Africa and picking her next orphan to adopt.

Today was pathetic. I came home from school and slept for four hours and my to do list keeps growing exponentially, and I sit, and watch it grow, while downing handfuls of trail mix and energy drinks and far surpassing the daily caloric limits that any human being should be consuming, and facebook, well I don’t believe in terrorism, but if I did, it was the best invention to melt the minds and sap the productivity of our nation. I'm tired of the library. I'm tired of looking up and having that girl whose eyes are almost glued shut due to an over application of mascara looking at me. I'm tired of the guy to the right in with his giant class ring incessantly referring to his lady as "Babe" we get it you have a girlfriend, and an aeropostle polo shirt, not could you please remove yourself from my vicinity? But perhaps most seriously, is this guy on my left with the painfully, awful, music taste, who is now unabashadly singing with his eyes closed along to the strums of the acoustic guitar and enjoying far too openly the soothingly rasp voice of none other than Nickelback blasting from his headphones. Stop grunting. I want to bust your f-ing face in. Perhaps one of my least favorite things about BYU is how so many people feel it socially acceptable, and are downright far too comfortable with breaking out into deep and passionate song while in the course of walking across campus, whether hymn or mainstream, full on-belting, eyes closed, feelin' it, feelin' it real hard. Second only, to the public maker-outers of course. School is such a funny institution that produces so many funny sensations. Best news of 2009 thus far: Brock bought a Technitronic cassette tape at DI for 25 cents that has produced more sweating, fist pumping action than even my shadow box class at the gym. Don’t remember Technitronic? Let me refresh your memory, Move that Body, Pump the Jam anyone? Fingers snapping, toe tapping, hand clapping, mouth rapping: rapture, sheer ecstasy I tell you. Recently my favorite apparel is a pair of leggings that I brought back from home, don’t even worry that they’re from 5th grade, gap kids circa 1998. I like old things, I like doing things to feel little again. I like particularly the amount of dancing that has exploded in the house due to the Emma Gilman factor, my acquiring a computer, and well Shakira’s new hit “She Wolf in the Closet.”

Our downstairs neighbors are becoming hoarders. She works at a pet store and every time I see her she has new dogs and is acquiring more, and their apartment smells really, really, foul but the canines are wonderful as all canines are. I’ve made peace with Freida and she is actually my favorite, ya know which one I’m talking about? The bulky little black and white one? She has this rubber pacifier that she always drops at my feet. Those dogs make me so happy. I want a dog more than anything and don’t know how much longer I can resist getting one. No-one in your life will ever love you more than a dog. True fact.

Well, wow, this is beginning to be a product of yet another mind spill. All over the place, what a disaster! Grab the bounty this mess makes absolutely no sense and will require the highest grade of absorbency to soak it up! Good thing a wet bounty paper towel can support a bowling ball. True fact, I even saw them test it once on the local news. I’m hungry. The end.Love, Madalyn Josephine Lynch

1 comment:

  1. This is the reason i originally started a blog, now i cant write anything real on mine. So instead, I write emails to myself.