We all forget almost six years of our lives; I mean, that's the average of what we spend of it dreaming.

I think I’m starting to understand why we have to carry that albatross around our necks.

To pressure us into movement. To motivate us.

What do we accomplish in the summer when we’ve got little responsibility and stressors?

A whole lot of nothing.

Maybe if the writers in the sky toss enough stress into our lives at once, if they keep doing that—maybe eventually, we’ll get it. Maybe eventually, it will sink in, and we’ll take advantage of all the free time we have when we have it the next go around.

<3<3<3

My neck hurts. Probably from the classic headbanging, among other dance moves, that occurred yesterday evening in a garage, where two (the two out of three that were allowed to play before busted) bands were surrounded, circled by fifty hipsters with ironic haircuts (some of which were very cool). I had a blast. Those couple of hours, though they began awkward, indeed, were among my top hours this semester.

Maybe they deserve that spot, or maybe I just need to get out more, but I'm going for the former. Eh, the latter, too. I'm makin' plans and do(uchin' sh)it. It's time to get out more. 

It's time to make bucket lists, but better yet, it's time to make "now lists."

And I feel like I always blog (a.k.a. rant) about the same few topics.

Oddly, I'm okay with that.

And I'd tell you about one of the amazing plans, but it's to be kept on the downlow.

Which brings me to today. And before I start off with that (I'm an ex-English major because I've now started at least three sentences with "and."), I'll say that, you know, I like talking about making a lot of plans, and then when it's time to actually do them, I don't want to because I realize I have a lot to do. I think I'm getting better about that. I realize that I need to chill out. Just like when I tried to make straight A's in middle school so I could go to college...I go further when I have to. Like how you don't have to make a hundred on everything to get an A in the class. I'm learning to not always give it my best shot; maybe that's not a good habit to pick up, but it's better than smoking, right? I'm learning to breathe. 

And (#4) I tried having lucid dreams like the past five times in a row I've fallen asleep. I suck at this. And (#5) I need this to happen so I can write my script!

It's funny that I'm pointing out all the "and's," when I've used some form of "I" at least 38 times already.

But today. Today I had the wonderful gift of my little taking me out on a date. She drove me to Little Rock, where I ate at Vino's for the first time (and had a scrumptious pepperoni & mushroom calzone). We proceeded to walk through the windy, beautiful downtown, where we bought wonderfully warm beverages from the River Market and soaked up all the delicious smells from the mini-restaurants. We looked around at all kinds of handmade crafts (like in Ten Thousand Villages, an awesome fair trade store with mindblowing handiwork), and my wittle even bought the cutest stuffed glove dinosaur named Rex (soon to be renamed). We took a few pictures, enjoyed the scenery, and checked out the local bookstore, where I resisted the urge to buy a coffee mug with a disappearing Cheshire Cat (since I don't drink coffee & it was $10), but not to buy the records Night at the Opera and Tapestry (the latter for my mother for Christmas [which hopefully she will never read this blog]). There was wonderful conversation and fun music (like the Vitamin String Quartet and Nuttin' But Strings and Ludo).

I'm a mentor to all of the freshmen...but I couldn't have asked for a better little. I mean, this girl bought me lunch for our first date. But I don't love her just because she spoils me, something I'm totally not used to (and I have to think of a way to do something insanely cool for her). She's so inspirational and unique. More and more, what I find that I love most about my college experience (as stressful as it is and the more I realize I don't do just a whole lot), is the people: I have met (and creeped on) a variety of diverse, opinionated people with amazing ideas and personalities. It's an experience, alright. 

(Plus, she shared about a girl who's staying for a few days who, when she was sixteen, set up this awesome learning program for girls in Africa about their feminine hygiene, among other things, and just now a mere eighteen, got back a couple weeks ago from getting to see her program in action for the first time; why haven't I done anything spectacular?!)

Anyways, back to why I adore my little. (You know, for a "writer," I sure do have a hard time most of the time trying to put what I have to say in words.) Not only is she an incredibly sweet and kind person, who easily points out the everyday things in life she loves (like blackbirds on old drooping wires and driving on bridges tall enough that let you feel like you're driving among the treetops), but she's passionate and educated. She wants to make a difference in the world, give people pure drinking water (along with a really cool project that I mentioned I had to keep on the DL). She knows how to cook and she can tell you about all the secret cool places in town. Her words are strong (check out her slam sometimes), she's well-read, funny, and artistic (very talented, might I add). I can't wait to share a laugh with her next weekend. 

She amazes me.

People amaze me.

So hang that albatross 'round my sore, partied-out neck. I need to bear it until the motivation sinks in. I want my name down for adding something to this world. 

They don't kid. Diggin' holes builds character. 

Because I want to travel the country, and out of it. I want to have a fun, shitty band. I want to write, because I can't run out of ideas. I want the only reason that I want to go to sleep to be because I've mastered lucid dreaming (and not because of depression). I want to have a close relationship with my family. I want to know everyone's story and shut my own trap every once in a while. I want to compile my own list of likes. I want to start painting again, and become a better pianist than I've ever been, and make a copy of all of our home videos for my parents. I want to get everyone special Christmas gifts that mean something. I want to have a hipster dorm with illegally stolen signs (shh). I want to write a book, and I'd like to save a life (mentally or heroically shoving them out of the way of a bus). I want to see everyone's favorite movie after they tell me why it means so much to them. I want to have time to read again (I think I was smarter and more creative then). I want to clean my room; maybe not.

I want people to think of me like I think of them. Walk away impressed, and maybe even a little envious. Not because I'm obsessed with what people think of me--but because I want to have that self-satisfaction of living a life worth living. Being a role model. Being a source of inspiration. Doing something with each breath I steal. Living in a stone cottage with a wine cellar and handmade Chinese dishes in the kitchen and the most beautiful, healthy kids in the backyard. 

It's funny I keep writing about how much I'd like to live...but are you really living if you just sit around writing about it all of the time? Maybe, maybe not. But maybe if I put this out there where someone could see it if they wanted to, it makes me feel like I have to do it now.

I should probably stop procrastinating now.

Time to do that homework so I can live in the now, right?