o also

ich bin sehr SHALLOW. no srsly mum and i both. there's stuff on the telly about science and stuff and what we immediately notice is the scientist's Awkward Hair (or partial lack thereof). that sort of thing. also for the Messiah gig I did on Sunday, jay was actually wearing his tux (instead of the slightly-less-formal black dress shirt & pants i got used to seeing him in for philharmonia concerts) and i was totally floored by how gorgeous he was, with the long long legs and the being very very slender and the wearing clothes that actually fit him. Gorgeous. ... I may have told him so and made him rather uncomfortable. (especially considering that i have no idea if he even wants to be my friend right now. er. and that's a whole new bottle of angst that i don't really want to uncork just now.) but um yeah. i'm not proud of it, but. trufax.

& um

because now it's after midnight,

Merry Christmas!

love,
s

it is 2 a.m. and raining.

I never can seem to sleep on Christmas. Which sucks for me, really, since it's one of the few days my family really expects me to be up and about on their time frame. 9:30 mass or whatever, for which I have to be washed and dressed and caffeinated and fed -- I've even set an alarm.

Blast.

I, um.

So Christmas is often not the best time of the year for me. Holidays get tied up in a lot of baggage, you know? And they are high-stress, emotionally, and they're one of the times that I desperately want to be With Someone and never, ever am. And everyone is all immersed in their own activities and stress and baggage and people and there never seems to be time to really talk with the people I really want to talk to. (And I am really trying to ignore the probability that Certain Parties just don't want to talk to me.) But Christmas day is always hard, especially since I invariably don't sleep well the night before. And today was no exception. And I was sad and my mum let me cry a little, but my dad -- later & with no tears involved -- just told me, "What you did was right, you shouldn't be sad." and expected that to make it better.

Maybe the problem is, I can tell when I'm not wanted, I just refuse to leave the room with dignity.