First journal entry! Woot.

• deep breath*

Before I decided to actually write something, I looked around a lot. And Paul Visco, you created some sweet applications. I like the idea of trying to enhance a local community via Internet rather than tear it apart... I don't know if the idea was yours or not, Paul, but I dig it.


I took a walk tonight, among the giant houses near the historical society. The cars on elmwood whizzed softly and incessantly, and I wanted them to go away. Ever since I got home from school-- which was rural and quiet, and different in many other ways, too-- I feel unclear, confused, out of place. As I walked along the sidewalk, I wanted to do all kinds of things that I didn't do because I was too scared: pick up a plastic bag, full of something unknown, which marred the sidewalk (but then I wonder, who else will pick it up? And, further more, does it really matter if it gets picked up or not, or is picking up litter just an oversimplification taught in grade school that it's time for me to eschew?) I also wanted to walk through Hoyt Lake, but knew I'd be terrified, so I had to stay on the street with the cars.

One time, there was a rainbow directly over the twisty bridge in the late spring. It was raining, and I was running, and I wanted to stop dead in the center of the bridge, and stand, pointing up at the rainbow, so the cars would see it too. Maybe people don't even care about rainbows. But it struck me, and I wanted to be prophetic and striking and point up at the sky, but didn't, and I'm not sure why.

Sometimes a great satisfaction, which comes after the act, justifies doing something abhorrent. But never doing anything in the first place is an entirely different matter. I'm telling you, though, its much easier to obey your impulses in the country. There's a smaller chance of rape, and fewer people driving too fast to notice a rainbow.

Speaking of cars, the ones outside the giant houses around the historical society were pretty sleek. I was thinking about having a lot of money. "Jim Ball" was written on one of the licence plates. I don't think I would want my name on someone else's plate. Jim Ball must have a lot of money, though, to have his name for everyone to see like that. But really, who cares about Jim Ball? I don't think he needs to put his name on the plate of every car he sells.

I'm going to New York City for New Years. It's going to be wild. I am so excited. Finally I won't feel like everyone else is having a party on New Years and I'm left out. Yes!

Every where you go in New York City on New Years is a party. I hope its like the New Years scene in Forrest Gump: lots of wine, women, and bright lights.