truth is, it's not all right

Listening to Rebecca Correia's Elizabeth and Death Cab for Cutie's Transatlanticism over and over.

Elizazbeth,
don't leave!
There's nothing down there for
you or for me.

I guess distance is the major theme in my life right now.
Distance between friends, geographical and mental.
(The latter is the more painful by far.)
Distance between moments of clarity.
Distance between myself and my desires.

I have so much work to do today, but last night I had a rude blast from the past, so today I'm a little depressed.

Big thought:

I can't get where I want to by myself. I always imagine myself impossibly climbing a vertical wall, clawing my own grips into the smooth rock and clay. But in life, if people won't cooperate, I'll remain at the bottom, despondent-- despite any amount of effort I put in.

My possible thesis advisor hasn't responded yet-- I'm absolutely on hold 'til she does.
And when I meet prospective bosses for the summer, if for any reason they don't like my face-- whoops, too bad for me.

Well, at least I have a pretty face, right?