Trivial pursuits.

The silence of this computer lab was just abruptly broken by the girl sitting next to me, who's the type to yell into her phone. She made a call, and...well, it was loud. And boring.

I've given up on the person I'd been pining for for months. She's more interested in someone who's thousands of miles away. Oh well.

There has been a creeping feeling of dissatisfaction in my life. It's giving me ideas for stories I would like to write, but the stories never seem interesting enough to me to actually write them into existence. So they are forgotten. One after the other. Poof. Poof poof poof. Poof.

There is a new radio show in my future. 10-noon on Saturday mornings on WIUX-LP: Pure Student Radio. Until December, when the semester's over and I suddenly go for a new slot. Joy.

...no. Nevermind. I remain dissatisfied.

Another cryptic update.

"I told you I would, stayyyyy.....Would you always? Maybe sometimes? Make it easy. Take it down."

I have that playing in my head over and over and over again. It's from a Grizzly Bear song called "Two Weeks," which may or may not be evil because of it's siren-like qualities.

I've been a superhero lately. I may be human, but I want it to last.

I tried to save a stray yesterday in the woods of Kent Farm. It ran off while I was on the phone with the company listed on the tag that was putting me in touch with the owner. A happy little pit bull, making his way through a solo Homeward Bound. She called me at 8am this morning to say that Kent Farm is just up the road from her home, so that I shouldn't feel too bad about it. They'll find him, she said.

The night before, I saved Tomas' vehicle with my battery's power.

I went to sleep slightly tipsy last night.

I slept late this morning cuddling myself into a coma. My karma is good, to say the least.

Busy times ahead. Nervous times, too.

"Green."

This is a trend I've observed in my studies of the rhetoric which accompanies various social movements.

In particular, my study of those that are in these particular classes.

You see, I've had two classes with the same professor, who is an academic powerhouse who I admire very much. She specializes in the field of rhetoric utilized by various kinds of social movements for the purpose of persuading politicians, citizens, "etc." to seeing the light and joining their particular sides on certain issues and campaigns. The first class I had with this prof concerned social movements that focused on the vocalization and explanation of pain and how various organizations worked to use examples of it in order to persuade funding out of various sources.

What typically happens for most of these movements (the ones that gain marginal success, anyway) is that they end up falling under a vague image or name, which can then serve as a kind of brand, which various corporations can then use in order to market their own brands. An example of this is the RED campaign, which joined a wide variety of major corporations together under the promise that if a consumer chose to buy the specially marketed RED products being offered (ie: The Gap sells red shirts with vague outlines of Africa that say "RED" across the breast or Mac sells RED iPods), the company would then donate 10% of THAT PARTICULAR ITEM'S SALE to the RED campaign, which would then go towards the fight against AIDS in Africa. Sounds good in theory, right?

Not if you consider that it's simply adding a 90% profit to the company producing the product, even though the consumer bought the product intending to directly benefit the charity. This is particularly relevant to the notion of an iPod's longevity, because it means that the consumer has chosen to disregard what is typical of consumeristic individualism in an attempt to aid the RED campaign (ie: they really wanted the green one, but the red one meant that they would be doing a little bit of good). In other words, the consumer is going to have that red iPod for a long time, whether or not the campaign survives this particular form of itself (or simply survives longer than a year or two).

Essentially, this means that the consumer has chosen to act as a propaganda piece for the organization.

Howling.

To say that I am completely human is incorrect. To say that I am not human is equally so.

I am, and have always been, a wolf. I am not in a sheep’s clothing, nor girl’s clothing, nor woman’s clothing, nor any other such creature. I see myself as a wolf sometimes, moreso than any other time, with thick fur and piercing eyes. Sometimes others spot it, and it frightens them.

And there is an immeasurable sadness in that realization. I am naturally off-putting and naturally unaware of the fact that I frighten others until I’m told or I sense it, which is when I typically run away, as this is somewhat embarrassing to me. Wolves are misunderstood creatures.

There was a time when I would stare at photos of wolves for hours. There was once a librarian in my grade school with long, curly grey hair that framed her head and shoulders who shared this fascination. Every year, she would adopt a wolf through one of the protection organizations, and she would display the photos and letters of thanks in the library. I never spoke to my peers about my appreciation of her tradition, but I do remember telling her that I loved wolves. She nodded, knowingly. She later told us that she loved Oscar Wilde, too. All these things make sense, you understand.

As a woman, I cannot identify with furry culture, as it is typically considered to be a gay male culture by nature. Nor do I identify with cartoonish recreations of the creatures I love so much. Nor would I want to have sex in a mascot suit. I’m already a wolf, so why would I need a wolf outfit? The parts are already there, in theory. There’s no need to adorn myself in fake bits.

This is a transformative statement, but there are really no transformations involved. Nothing changes visually, nor necessarily in the way that I openly identify myself. As I said, I have always felt this way. The people that know me best are capable of sensing this identification long before I ever mention it, which is an exceedingly rare occasion.

Perhaps they sense it because of the way I interact. I’m silent and tend to observe from a distance unless I feel the need to interject some kind of howl as to mark my presence. A howl is a plead is a word is a need. It is the act of distancing and begging.

But I am a noble beast. There’s too much dignity within me to stand for abuse of myself or anyone else.

I promise I won’t bite, though. Hard, anyway.

You’ll still keep your distance, despite this. I know it.

Hmmph.

I suffered some setbacks. Lost about sixty posters, somehow...and my soup bowl...and $20-worth of frozen food thanks to my old roommates. But I now live in my own apartment for the first time ever. Alone. I'm nearly finished moving in.

I've taken at least five naps on the couch that came with this space. Tonight I finally broke in the kitchen with a large vegetable omelette dinner, shared with Jacki. I shall finish my organization this evening. I'm excited.

NO, NO, NO.

An awesome week ended with a bad time. BALLS.

I met Deerhunter on Wednesday. Bradford Cox signed a poster. As did Dan Deacon, despite my "mixed feelings" regarding his music. He was really cool.

I also won the Twin Peaks Gold Box (the entire series) in a WIUX/S Alumni scavenger hunt. Also, the complete original Star Trek, and complete I Love Lucy. Totally stoked.

Also, friends threw me a birthday party a week before my real birthday because our lease is up on Friday, the day after my real birthday. I was also very excited about that.

But my crush didn't come. Nor did many of the people who said they were going to. And I was very upset.

And today I locked my keys in my truck and consequently sacrificed $40 to the lock gods to get them back because I didn't make the simple $2 investment of getting a spare made.

And now I feel that every bit of excitement and glowing awesomeness has just been sucked out of the past week for me. And I hate myself for getting so negative so quickly.

Premonition.

"I can sense it, something important is about to happen. Something huge is coming up, and we're both included."

That's how I feel this time around. Also, I've already had some weird moments occur that I've dreamt of before. Things I've seen that I hadn't seen before.

Keep it together. Don't get too attached. What if it's like all the others?

But what if this time it's different? What do I have to lose?

My bravery will eventually pay off, right?