Jan. 6th, 2004

bryiarrose: (romance by shinken (yay!))
walking home from class about twenty minutes ago, the moon was already rising. bright against the sky even without the dark. beautiful. it's far too cold here, or maybe i just need a better hat. classes will be classes, more the kind that made me love carleton to begin with. and i'm going to write about myself... we'll see how far i push, how far i can. it makes me wonder about validity in some ways. why certain things in our lives are considered to be more acceptably important than others, whether or not the less acceptable things may be the ones that change us the most--and the ones we learn the most from in the retelling.
bryiarrose: (indigo ice)
on another note about the cold. i always forget what winter term is like... people so bundled up as you walk around campus that you have to recognize them by their hats and scarves for lack of faces.

it's the kind of cold that seeps through the walls, radiating off them and making you shiver if you sit too close. even with the extra heater on last night, i gave in and layered my bed over with the quilt i'd bought and was waiting to have dry cleaned. there's nothing quite the same as waking up under a quilt... the weight of it and warm that builds the longer you've been under it, it's a comfort i can't quite explain. there are girls out there (along with others) who would understand exactly what i mean. there is no way to make a quilt with out love, and somehow you can always feel that in it. perhaps needless to say, i had no desire to get out of bed and leave it's warmth for the cold walk to class, but i did anyhow. there is at least one benefit to being interested in what i'm taking this term... it makes me more likely to show up.

my car is cranky and will not start again. i want it to take me to the store for food since i have next to none at home and don't especially feel like letting the snack bar overcharge me again today. but for the moment she growls at me when i turn the key and tells me it is too cold to drive anywhere, so i will scrounge at home. my lungs aren't happy... they hate the weather and, i'm beginning to think, me as well.

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