Okay, look here, david, i went home for thanksgiving. I had better things to do than blog. Well, actually, I kept a running commentary on my journey, but whatever. so here goes.

11-21-01- 1:47 PM PST
To blog.
That sounds like the phrase Westley utters in the Princess Bride when Billy Crystal fills his lungs up with the bellows and then presses on it. “tobllaaaaatth”
Anyway. To blog. I am writing this now to blog later. It is a chronicle of my trip home… my trip home. Home. What an odd concept that is. I feel now that Stanford is my home, that Branner is my home… that California is my home. But suddenly I have been told that Southlake is my home, when I thought I had moved out of Southlake a long time ago. The only part about it that will feel like home is my actual house, and my family. And I wonder if even in my own home if I’ll feel like a guest. Like the family has started to get along without me, like they will be accommodating me because I’m a guest, not because I am at home. I suppose that’s what most frightens me about going home – that it will not really be home. That I’ll be a stranger in a strange land, in my “hometown.” Shusshin. Shusshin wa Texas no Southlake desu. Even more surreal than seeing my family again will be seeing my friends. My friends who have all moved on to a new phase in their lives… each one of us has a new group of friends, a new home, now…
So I’m sitting here in the San Jose airport listening to Fiona Apple moan, “Nothing’s gonna change my world, nothing’s gonna change my world.” No, Fiona… you’re wrong. Everything has changed my world. My world has changed my world. I’ve changed my world, but my world has also changed me. I remember getting off the plane in San Francisco thinking, I will not leave the state of California for two months. Well, two months it has been. Now, it’s time for me to say “farewell” to this gorgeous state which I have adapted myself to, which I have made my own. I have become California and California has become me… what will Texas say when she sees me again? “My, how you’ve changed, my, how you’ve stayed the same!” Nothing could be closer to the truth.

11-22-01- 11:14 PM CST

Thanksgiving day has come and gone once more without really feeling like a holiday. Thanksgiving never really feels like a holiday to me. I really don’t know why. But then, very few days actually do feel like holidays… and I suppose if by feeling like a holiday I mean that we had dinner and ate pie and were home, then it felt like a holiday. Just to me it felt like it was lacking… something. Who knows what.
I spent the day napping. Kind of odd, actually. I learned why they put that little warning on the back of cold and allergy pills: “do not use with alcohol.” I mean, it’s not like I got piss-assed drunk and took cold meds, but I did have a half-glass of wine and a half-glass of champagne, and combined with the medication I was taking to stave off these allergies that I seem to have developed in the interim (I appear to be allergic to Texas. I’m not complaining.), I got very, very drowsy. I slept. I suppose I took three naps this afternoon, and almost a fourth. Weirdness.
Last night in the airport I remember seeing children that reminded me of myself. The first was a little girl, probably four to six, in the San Jose airport, who was dancing across the floor avoiding stepping on cracks. I couldn’t help but smile and think of what that little girl will be like when she’s eighteen. Perhaps she’ll be dancing across the tiles in the quad of Stanford University with some boy who understands perfectly why she orchestrates her steps so carefully… and why you just can’t step on cracks. The second was a boy who was probably five who was trying to teach his mother how to use a palm pilot, but she just didn’t get it. I got a kick out of that… “No, mommy, push THIS button!” “Uh-oh, what did I do wrong?” “You didn’t hit the right button! You have to tap here and then here!” It was really amusing. Then, in the Dallas airport, I saw a small girl, again probably four to six, who was playing a game about “only stepping on the white parts of the floor.” Maybe it was even the same girl. It was still amazingly cute.
So after the effects of the cold medication and the alcohol wore off, I taught myself how to play “Everlong” by the Foo Fighters on the guitar. Carrie bought herself a good entry-level Fender Strat Squier last week, so I got to fool around with it. I’ve got most of the basic chords for Everlong down… I wonder if Mike will be impressed when I play it for him. The tips of the fingers on my left hand kinda hurt. I bet guitarists have callused fingers.
Tomorrow, hopefully I’ll get to hang with some of my homies. Everyone was surprised to hear that I’d be in town for the break, so hopefully people will want to chill.

11-24-01 1:13 AM CST

I can’t sleep.
I just got back from hanging out with Barbara and Natalie about an hour ago. I tried to sleep for about 45 minutes, and I felt that I had a ton of stuff on my mind that needed writing down. So I started thinking about my IHum project, and the way Katie and I are writing our Vagina Monologues. I decided on a theme for my monologue… the way the words “vagina” and “virgin” have four letters in common, and how they both apply to me. I can’t talk about my vagina without talking about my virginity, so why not bring both “out of the dark” so to speak and make people nice and uncomfortable by talking about both. That’d be cool.
So I started writing some vaginality. It’s actually kind of refreshing, talking about private parts. I think our society would be a lot better off if we all said the word “vagina” at least once a day. I’ve tried, over the past few weeks, and I think I’ve succeeded, for the most part. Except for Thursday, when I was just talking to my family… I think that my grandmother would be shocked. Or my mother would be. But that’s just not the sort of thing you talk about with them. But I’m pretty sure I said “Vagina” to Barbara tonight… but I can’t be sure. That’s a good thing, because saying it shouldn’t be that big of a deal. Vagina. Vagina. I have a vagina. Guys talk about penises, why can’t we talk about “vagina” more often? It’s a good thing. Vaginas are good. They’ve been stigmatized by society, so we owe it to them to make it up. Eh. Get over your sorry selves. I have a vagina, and I’m not afraid to use it. Ooooh, I like that line… (copy-pastes line into v-word document) hehehehe. It works. Hooray for vaginas.
So it’s 1:20, and I really don’t feel tired. This is a Bad Thing, because I need to be up and at ‘em with the rest of the family in the morning. I don’t know what’s on the calendar for tomorrow, other than gelato with my home fries, but I’m sure it’ll be interesting… Why is it that I can fall asleep anytime during the day (especially during calculus class) but I can’t fall asleep at night? Maybe it’s the mocha I had at Starbucks with Barbara…
Talked to Mike for awhile tonight on the phone. That was a good thing. He’s having a good time in LA. It sounds like a lot of fun. He also promised me that he’d come pick me up from the San Jose airport on Sunday night, which is a Good Thing. It’s so nice dating someone with easy access to a car… yay cars. Sucks for us frosh, who don’t get cars…

Today’s song clip: I Know by Save Ferris (from the 10 things I Hate About You soundtrack)
My momma said to stay away from guys like you
She said they were nasty, make me do things I don’t wanna do
Stay away from bad boys, they’ve got one thing on their mind
Their hormones are raging, and they want it all the time
And I know know ‘cause she said so but I can’t just let you go
And I know know ‘cause you said so and I can’t just let you go
Well I love you very much you’re nice to see and nice to touch
But I would never ever ever treat you wrong be waiting for you all along
And I know know ‘cause you said so and I can’t just let you go
And I know know ‘cause you said so and I can’t just let you go
Can’t let you go, can’t let you go
I said I want you to know
I said I want you to know right now
I said I want you to know…
And I know know ‘cause she said so and I can’t just let you go
And I know know ‘cause you said so and I can’t just let you go
And I know know ‘cause you said so and I can’t just let you go
Never let you go

11-24-01 11:44 PM CST
Hung out with tons of people at Starbucks tonight. It was me and Lizzie and Nathan and Barbara and Jenny and Natalie. We ran into tons of people there too, people that we graduated with and people who have yet to graduate. We talked about how amazing college has been… Lizzie and I are both happy and in relationships right now… other people are having trouble meeting members of the opposite sex. It was really neat trying to catch up with everyone, after having been apart for so long, but there was also weirdness there. Like we’d all moved on and were together for old time’s sake. I got shit for going to Stanford, which wasn’t so cool. I wish people would stop seeing it as a “prestigious university” and see it as a fucking college. It’s college. I go to class. I study. I party. Same as anywhere else. Get over it.
I’ll stop bitching now. (:

November 25, 2001 7:17 PST (just because PST is convenient…)
I’m in the air again, on the way back to Stanford. It was an interesting vacation, I suppose. It went by pretty damn fast, really… Kind of funny the way that works. Now I look at my syllabus and realize that there is only one real week in the quarter, the end of next week being dead week, followed by exams, and I’ll be home again in two and a half weeks. That’s weird, dude. Weird. But yeah, it’ll be cool. Christmas will be nice because I won’t have too much work to do over the break (if any… I doubt there will be any) which is a Good Thing. It’ll be all Christmas like and shit. And then it’ll be my birthday and the start of winter quarter and a whole bunch of classes and stuff. Eh. I could take that or leave it. But I can say that being at Stanford is better than being at home, because I have two live-in friends and a ton more just down the hall… but I do miss my home friends when I’m there. It’s an intricate balance you have to strike… between there and here… kind of weird. Oh well.
Wee, bloggie!!!!!!!!
Heh heh heh. Yeah, I’m a weirdo.