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I'm putting up sketches. I don't care if you look or not.

Sketch dump.Collapse )

I'm trying to get back into the swing of drawing things... be patient with me (and also my shoddy html skills.)

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Boys are stupid.

Can someone please explain the male psyche to me? I mean, honestly. I’m a girl, and I’m not stupid, or insipid, or vapid, or any of those other adjectives that we love to stick to girls deserving of them, and I don’t have any desire to assume those qualities to get with a guy. But sometimes I think I have to, because guys don’t pay attention unless you show your boobs or feign stupidity or something. I mean, even guys who have all outward appearances of seeming intelligent and forward-thinking and intellectual lose all of those qualities as soon as they hear a shallow giggle or see a flash of inner thigh. This is why I have so many close male friends, and so few boyfriends, current or otherwise. I end up being the one they go to for conversation and advice, but never for romantic interest. I think that those things should go hand in hand, but apparently, I’m the only one who thinks this way. I’m looking for someone who is my equal in terms of intellect, humour, wit, knowledge base, interests, et cetera. I know a lot of guys who are these things, and have felt attraction to these guys, but it has never been reciprocated; they always go for someone who is just all-around less intelligent. Are guys not looking for an equal in this way? Do they need someone who is less intelligent than them so they can feel secure in their superiority and dominance in the relationship? I mean… I’m not an unattractive person by any means, but I’m not going to say I’m turning heads when I walk down the street, either. But… does my intelligence and non-vapidity (yes, I made up that word) scare guys away regardless of my looks? What can I do that isn’t dumbing myself down to fix this problem? I’m tired of always being the “friend” instead of the “girlfriend”.

Oct. 11th, 2006

I have moved out of my house! My roommates are jamming. I like living out of my parents' house, because I can read t3h smut and watch t3h pr0n all the time and not have anyone look over my shoulder and ask what it is that I'm doing, exactly. Ahh, the freedom of college life. Also living with cute boys who never wear shirts. This is a plus.

Profound.

I'm moving in a few days.  (Hooray!)
I've been spending a lot of time with my friends, saying goodbye, just hanging out for fun because we won't be able to anymore.
Today I had lunch with P.
P is a strange kind of dude; usually it's best to just let him talk himself out about whatever he needs to, just smile and nod, and let him think you actually care, when you really just know it's that he's full of shit, but you don't need to tell him, because he's a really good person on the inside, and he's been a really good friend, and if you tell him, you'd lose all that.
SO.  I figured, today, as we had our last lunch date, it would be a similar kind of thing... smile and nod... then say "Oh I hope we'll be able to see eachother again soon!" and then fly across the continent.
But... as he started his psychobabble, I did the unthinkable.  I started to believe it was true!  Like... what the hell.  P never talks about anything that could possibly be construed as rational or sensible, and I know this, I know who he is.
But everything he was saying today made so much sense... the kind of sense that people are searching for in the Bible or on a quest for the meaning of life.  And... I don't know.  It was heavy.
And I got to thinking... what if I'm doing all the wrong things with my life... how am I going to keep up with all the needs of my soul when the path I'm choosing to pursue is one that is known to destroy them?  I don't know.  There are a lot of things I don't know, obviously.

I'm moving.

In three and a half weeks, I'm moving. I'm moving out of my parents' house, across the continent and into another country, and damn, will I be relieved. It's... stifling here. But I'm sure if you remember moving out of your parents' house for the first time, you'll remember the tension you feel as you count down the days until you can just finally get the hell out.

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