I've never been so flooded with memories, so desperate for someone.

Where are you? Why aren't you here with me?

Take a Hint

People using the Blogger/Blogspot weblogging service should take a hint from those using Xanga and

update their blogs.

Mentor of Humor

My uncle is probably the smartest, most hilarious person I know. He's brilliantly funny, incredibly quick with his wit, and just one of those people who lights up a gathering and drives conversation. I can only hope to be as amazing as he is when I'm older.

Last night, he brought up incredible quotations of Groucho Marx and Mark Twain. I thought I'd copy them down for future reference of my senior page and anyone else that stumbles upon this journal.

Groucho Marx:

A man's only as old as the woman he feels.

Behind every successful man is a woman, behind her is his wife.

Either he's dead or my watch has stopped.

I never forget a face, but in your case I'll be glad to make an exception.

I refuse to join any club that would have me as a member.

I was married by a judge. I should have asked for a jury.

Outside of a dog, a book is a man's best friend. Inside of a dog it's too dark to read.

Why was I with her? She reminds me of you. In fact, she reminds me more of you than you do!

Women should be obscene and not heard.

I wish you'd keep my hands to yourself.

He may look like an idiot, and talk like an idiot, but don't let that fool you, he really is an idiot.

Last night I shot an elephant in my pajamas and how he got in my pajamas I'll never know.

Those are my principles. If you don't like them I have others.

Mark Twain:

A lie can travel halfway around the world while the truth is putting on its shoes.

Clothes make the man. Naked people have little or no influence on society.

I thoroughly disapprove of duels. If a man should challenge me, I would take him kindly and forgivingly by the hand and lead him to a quiet place and kill him.

Wrinkles should merely indicate where smiles have been.

I love great writing.

The First True Snow

Excluding the snow that we got the night of Heather's party, the first snow of winter came tonight.

It's magical, you know; the snow. It's silent and beautiful and elegent. It's as though an entirely new layer of life has been laid down on the world. It's so clean and clear, and it shines with a brightness that cannot be described. It softens hard edges.

Watching the flakes fall down and down and down. And then another and another. The endless crystals of white.

It is purest form of magic. And it's wonderful, and it's nature.

Tomorrow, I want to walk in the freshly fallen snow. It might be my favorite time to be in the woods.

Santa Baby

Santa has finally been proven. (<- Link)

Meaning...what, exactly?

I want this journal to mean something. I want to write in my life, at least to a certain extent. I love to write, to put things into words and find meaning for my thoughts. It's about expressing myself. I've always been encouraged to do this, and writing has been a channel specifically endorsing self expression.

That being said, I cannot adequetly describe my own feelings about where I am in life right now. I'm not sad...I'm not depressed. I just feel like there's something missing.

How cliché, you might say. I wouldn't blame you for a second, that's exactly what I felt as I wrote the words.

But honestly, wanting to hold someone, wanting to love someone, just wanting to have that physical and emotional connection with someone else is such an important part of life. Isn't it one of those defining characteristics that makes us human? Emotion...and expression of that emotion...

Here's where my problems begin. I've had a philosophy since I can remember that it was never an issue who I loved or wanted to be with. I maintain that I could love anyone...that I could grow to want anyone. The one setback? Someone has to like me.

Looking around at my friends, I can geniunely say that I never understood why those that were single and complained about it couldn't find someone. It astounded me. Half the time (Well...more than half the time...) I told them this. Also, I felt as though I was clearly revealing the fact that I liked them or that I would be a good person for them to have a relationship with. Needless to say, this never sparked a single relationship.

However, I'm optimistic; helplessly so, some might argue. I never feel as though I'm restrained to "liking" one person at a time. I still look at myself as being able to be with anyone. This doesn't mean I don't have a certain girl or two in mind that I really enjoy and like. It just means I'm open. I want to be thought of as an open person.

Jesus...now I'm getting into defining myself...this could get ugly.

Proliferic

AIM profile has been updated to for the Holiday Season. Enjoy.

The Good, the Bad, and the...

Well, I'm suffering from the acutely painful and extremely contagious "along syndrome." Note to self - fix this.

On the up and up; the goatee is back...

Archivalry

I'm sitting at my computer, thinking about how to write all that has passed through my mind since the fateful beginning of this journal. The instant reactions to it's first entry served as a lesson that friendship is stronger than anything else imaginable, even the thought of being informed of what everyone else is thinking. I will not betray my friends, nor will I ever disrespect their feelings and their opinions. Perhaps this blog and what happened are a tribute to that. I love you all. You are my life, and I will never forget that.

And now on to more recent events.

Players. The passing of my second to last show with Court Van Rooten and Lee Smith as my directors and mentors in acting, and in life. The Pinning of Heather Pringle, Madeline Smith, Brian Beers, and Myself. The Roses for my best friend, Hal Martin, and Brian Murphy. These are milestones in a Players life. The awarding of a Rose is like no other, in my mind. The awarding of a Dozen, unheard of for most.

I have been a member of the audience lucky enough to see the Dozen Roses awarded. After my 7 plays, it has happened only once. In his senior year, with the Board, the Directors, the Players, and the Crew all in tears of joy and sorrow, Sam Rogers lay down his name in Players history. He was president, and in tears himself, although I don't think the smile left his face during that night. The applause that ensued after this final award was unforgettable.

The Roses that year were also remarkable...almost the entire Board I believe. Each Board member stood and talked about the person being awarded the Rose. This year's fall show consisted of the largest cast in Players history, I believe. Yes, even larger than Patience. And while rehearsals are wonderful, the official cast party is forced into the actual theatre, and it has a tendency to be, well, lessened in value and meaning when taking place there. The lobby is tradition, and will always remain so to me. I just don't feel right trying to mimic the closeness, the feeling, and the entire atmosphere. And it can't really be done.

There's only one thing left to be seen. The rumors that have been completely silent during my last couple years were of a box of chocolates being the final rung on the ladder that exists after the Pin. Confirmation? Perhaps...one can only wait and see. I've never heard of it being awarded to anyone, but I do know what I heard in my freshman year, which is that it does exist...

My wonderful Players...apparently people liked my scene. Monty, Claire, and I all thought it was quite ridiculous, but it just goes to show you...something. Bottom line is I love you all.

MIS MIS GEH