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[05 Jan 2007|03:47pm] |
In my previous journal entry, I believe I said something to the effect of that I was "committing myself to being social." As those of you who noticed that Ron's party was the first time in months I had left my room can attest to, this resolution did not bear fruit- though in its failing, I did reap great academic reward- so I suppose it wasn't all bad. But that is neither here nor there. As it custom to make new resolutions for new years and things, I have "resolved" (pun utterly intended!) to outline such commitments as I might make to myself here, so that every time I feel the urge to break them, I can look back on this page and firmly chastise myself, as I am so wont to do. With that in mind:
Morgan Forster's 2007 New Year's Resolutions, notwithstanding the fact that they are being resolved on the 5th of the new year, which, being the first week of the new year, is I believe still squarely within custom!
1. Be more outgoing.
2. Make at least one new friend.
3. Don't let the things that others do have an affect on me, personally.
4. Work at least an hour a day on my new work of fan-fic, an epic story of Harry and Hermione's voyage to India- set of course in colonial times- and how their journey affect them all.
5. Don't obsess. For added emphasis: Don't obsess.
Any other suggestions as to how I can improve myself would be much appreciated. After all, we are often blind to our own faults!
Not to say, of course, that those who might reply also share that blindness. I mean, I am blind to my own faults, but of course who am I to judge others?
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[25 Sep 2006|12:31am] |
A personal aside to a certain Mister Sinclair Lewis: All right, your constant badgering and threats of violence have (sadly) worked- I'm updating this sham of an internet diary. Please proceed to lay off.
I suppose on the whole I've been well since I was last heard from. I had what could be called my first date (it could also have been called not a date at all, but as I am a born romantic, I'll label it exactly what I want.) The person whom it was with seems to not really be interested in pursuing much of anything romantic, but at least I was asked out! Prior to that, such things had only happened in my feverish daydreams and Mary Sue fanfiction- speaking of such things, I hear that someone else on campus may just be as into Harry Potter as I am- I suppose I should go about getting to know him better, now that I've broken my self imposed exile and have resolved to commit to at least trying to be social.
Speaking of such things, if I want to have any chance at all of leaving my room in the next few days without suffering severe attacks of anxiety, I really should be tending to my as-yet unfinished homework and not wasting the night away on my not-quite-yet crippling internet dependency. I suppose I'll do that now, then.
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[01 Sep 2006|12:13am] |
I often wonder what life must be like for those unfortunate souls who lack the ability to express themselves in words. I imagine it would be akin to the sensation of constant loss, a tide forever pulling back and never coming in to rest on the shore. It really isn't at all healthy for me to brood on these things, and yet I cannot pull my mind away from these themes of loss and longing.
Really, I have all the reasons in the world to be perfectly happy. Eupheme is a stunning campus, I have just enough work to bury- but not lose- myself in my studies, and people here do seem to be, if not nice in the typical sense of false pleasantries, at least nice in the sense of an honest desire on their part to connect with others. And yet, things are somehow not fitting together in the way I expected they would. Lewis has been odd around me lately (though to call Lewis odd is hardly saying much, I mean more so than usual)- I have the sense now, for perhaps the first time, that there are secrets he is keeping from me that I am simply not privy to know. In the past, Lewis would, to use the disgusting phrase "spill his guts" to me at the slightest provocation, yet now, though I ask "what is it exactly that you and Nico are doing?" in a thousand diffrent and subtle ways, I recive guilty glances and suffer the indignity of forced subject changes. He of course is still the same Lewis I have come to know and begrudingly tolerate, and I do feel that he still thinks of me as the same Morgan- yet there are others outside of our self created world of two, and this causes me no end of amazement and confusion. I do worry that without him, I will lose my tenous social moorings and drift out onto the open sea of lonliness.
Perhaps I shouldn't count my basket of eggs as dropped before the chicken hatches them, though. I have been invited to a film with a student here, and, on Lewis' urging (one would think that they were preparing to give me a much needed kidney, so strongly did Lewis insit I say yes), have decided to go. It should prove to be a lovely evening- even if all that should happen is my (hopefully) discovering that I can interact with others without Lewis around. Oh dear. I had forgotten how awkward I can be. I do hope it goes well.
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[15 Aug 2006|10:23pm] |
Well, I got in. Not that this is at all a surprise, mind you- but I am rather happy about it. Mummy put together the most lovely Indian dinner- laugh if you want, but I think that they should do one of those inspirational biopics about her- "British Woman Learns How To Cook Flavorful Food, Family Stunned!" Sinclair, with his usual flair for the dramatic, timed his coming over to tell me about his acceptance perfectly to coincide with the start of our meal, so we ate and laughed and celebrated together, and it was lovely. Afterwards, he even helped me with my fic!
The best part of all this is that Eupheme isn't even going to set my mother back a cent- Great Auntie Marianne is paying for the whole thing, which is to be expected, since she has essentially been taking care of our family ever since Daddy died. So, basically my whole life. But that doesn't make her footing the tuition any less wonderful and kind.
Thank the powers that be (whatever they are) for good friends, good food, good luck, and old money.
-M.
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[11 Aug 2006|06:50pm] |
If I have this thing, I might as well use it. Fool that I am, I hadn't reckoned on the massive disconnect caused by trying to write things that I would normally put on paper in a medium that, to say the very least, shuns all pretenses of being tied to trees. I am talking, of course, about the Internet. I don't suppose that Sinclair is having this problem at all- he's far more mutable than I when it comes to such things. He lacks that writerly pretension.
I sent out my application to Eupheme today, and have persuaded Sinclair to do the same. Hopefully they'll find me a worthy enough candidate- not many schools would be willing to look past the fact that I got expelled the last day of freshman year for something that was ENTIRELY NOT MY IDEA. How was I supposed to know that theft, even if you return the stolen item after you prove your point, is a crime in the not-so-real world of high school? I can't get too mad at Sinclair though, as it was rather funny prior to the expulsion. Besides, if all goes well I'll be able to start over with my best friend in a new school that isn't in New Jersey. God, I hope they don't find Sinclair lacking. Even if he is a bit of a prick.
In other news, my masterwork is nearing completion. It's an alternate universe Harry Potter slash fanfiction set at Cambridge in Edwardian England. Remus, the protagonist, realizes his homosexuality and falls for the brilliant and pretentious Snape who (of course) is just terrible and closeted and awful for him. But thankfully, Remus is saved by the love (and sexing) of the beautiful yet lower class Sirius, who teaches him to love as he wants to no matter what society thinks. It's really fantastic, I'll be posting more excerpts lately. But now, dinner!
Ta!
-M
(is signing my journal too egotistical? I hope it's not. I never can judge these things.)
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[31 Jul 2006|05:35pm] |
Hear me, oh internet, and let this sample post be welcomed into your bosom or...something equally as poetic.
As a future note to self, I need to stop doing things just because Harry Sinclair tells me I should.
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