The Dramedy of Dawn Marie

Well friends, I haven't updated in a while and figured I should for a change. Tomorrow morning I'll be flying up to Oakland to meet up with Michael and spend the New Year (and the remainder of our winter break)with him. This will be my first time flying solo, so to speak, but I am hoping I'll do all right and that it won't be raining too hard when we land. Northern California has just been continually hammered all this month.

I don't know what else there is to say. Saw Memoirs of a Geisha with my mom tonight and it's a damn good movie. It did the book some justice, but it pales in comparison regardless. Other than that, not much has happened in the way of excitement. My friend Anja did come up for a few days and that was lovely. She's driving now, so we no longer have to meet halfway and all that jazz.

Well, I hope that the New Year brings much in the way of new possibilities and happiness to all of you. Hopefully, our men and women over in Iraq will be back home again, finally. We can only hope, at this point. And I haven't a clue what this new year will bring, but I pray it brings something that reflects the good rather than the bad in humanity. Then again, you can't look to governments and nations as the examples of human behavior, because there are good people everywhere in the world, if not in seemingly short supply. I remember that last year around this time I was in the midst of Anne Frank, and it still amazes me that out of a time of such darkness there emerged a beacon of hope. "I still believe, in spite of everything, that people are really good at heart."

Didn't mean to go off on a tangent, but it happens with me. I hope everyone has a safe and happy weekend.

Hello people. I'm sorry I haven't sufficiently updated y'all in awhile. Life has been interesting to say the least. So, I don't know where to begin with the state of my life. I'm the happiest I've been in a long time, so that has to count for something.

The play went off without a hitch and it had a good run. I was a good little Ukrainian juror, from what I've been told. It's kind of weird going from Royal where everyone and their cousin knows you to a college campus where virtually no one knows you. I did have a few friends from my drama class show up to the matinee, along with Jenna from Royal. Michael went twice, once with the rest of my family and once by himself. My God, I love that boy. The weekend of the play was actually the first time I saw Chica with her beau, aka my big brother Steve. Talk about weirdness, eh? It was the strangest feeling sleeping that night with Michael in my bed, and those two smooching on an air-mattress on the floor. I felt so bad for my roommate, but she claims to have been cool with it.

Anyway, after the play life started going at a rapid-fire pace. Finals were just around the corner, I had term papers up the wazoo, and I was starting to get sick. Michael did his damnedest to keep me from losing my mind, but we were both on the verge of considerable breakdowns. To make a long story short, life pretty much exploded. The only sanity I had was Michael, which is nice. He takes such good care of me it makes me feel guilty. I've never had anyone who sincerely worried for me before, in terms of guys that is. Thankfully, finals are over and I can relax. Michael and I went back to Simi and decompressed for two days straight. My parents were freaking out because I looked so skinny and pale, which I guess I did. I love how easy it is for me to give myself a psychosomatic illness. I've lost 14 lbs since school started, don't ask me how, it just happened. Call it the Dining Common Diet...the food is just repulsive somedays.

Anyway, everyone started feeling better by Friday, which meant we were just well enough to go to D-land with my brother, Chica, and their little entourage. Michael was freaking out about it because he hates rollercoasters with a fiery passion. Sadly enough, the first ride we went on was Space Mountain. Hilarious. Anyway, I have come to the conclusion that Disneyland is way more enjoyable with a significant other. I've never gone with a boyfriend and it was quite spiffy. You find yourself taking advantage of any interval of darkness on rides for the purpose of making out. Pirates of the Caribbean is by far the best for this, just for your future escapades. That and the train that goes around the park...plenty of tunnels. All in all, I'd say that we all had a really good time. And at the end of the day, they had the fireworks show and after that they covered us in fake snow. It was truly beautiful and highly romantic. Some kissing was done then and it made me quite happy. My mom said it was simply a magical moment, which I agree with entirely. Simply magical.

Michael went home a few days ago. I didn't mean to, but I cried a little when we were resting together before he left. It's only three weeks, but we haven't been apart for longer than three days since we started dating. Yeah, we're saps. I know it. I'm totally over the moon for him, and from all accounts he's in the same state for me. My dad drove him back and he says that I was all he talked about. "If I didn't know any better, I'd say he's in love." Hooray for mutual feelings.

Now, I'm doing all right. I'm trying to fully recover from my first completed quarter of college. Holy crap, I finished my first quarter! That's exciting. I survived my initiation into the wonderful world of college. God, I love this.

Well, that should suffice as a pretty good take on my life of late. I hope to see a few people this break. If I can, I'll swing by Royal before its winter break and say hi to some peeps. Namely Mrs. Donohue. I miss her so much. And there are plenty of other faces I need to see, too. Much love to all and a happy holiday season.

What if there was no light?
Nothing wrong, nothing right?
What if there was no time?
Or no reason or rhyme?
What if you should decide
that you don't want me there by your side?
That you don't want me there by your side?

What if I got it wrong,
And no poet or song
could put right what I got wrong
or make you feel I belong?
What if you should decide
that you don't want me there by your side?
that you don't want me there in your life?

Oo-oo-oo, that's right
let's take a breath, jump over the side
Oo-oo-oo, that's right
how can you know it when you don't even try?

every step that you take
could be your biggest mistake
it could bend or it could break
but that's the risk that you take
what if you should decide
that you don't want me there in your life
that you don't want me there by your side?

Oo-oo-oo, that's right
let's take a breath, jump over the side
Oo-oo-oo, that's right
how can you know it when you don't even try?

I am incredibly perplexed. I'll explain later when I haven't anything better to do.

Me: Michael?

Michael: Yes?

Me: Damn, I can't say it.

Michael: Yes, you can.

Me: Michael, I love you.

Michael: I love you, too.


And thus, two Prufrocks dared to disturb the universe with three little words. I can feel the reverberation on my lips...this is love.

Something in the way she moves
attracts me like no other lover...

Don't ask me why, but it applies. It's late and I need to sleep. Seriously. But I am scared that I may've fucked up the one things I never wanted to.

I don't know how, but Michael and I got to talking about love and we came up with a brilliant analogy for it: it should, ideally, be more of mutual acceptance between two people, which would make it more like a divine love where love extends both ways. It is much more complicated than that. And being the fool that I am, my heart began to pound and ache in my chest with the heaviness of feelings. Feelings...I do not know just what they are. It is this strange mix of fear, adoration, dread, and thrill. I couldn't hide it. I had to say something. I wanted to say the three little words, but I knew that once I said them I could never take them back. But if I don't say something...who's to say? What is the something in my heart? What is it that writhed in me today as I spoke words of Shakespeare and watched as others acted out scenes of spoken love?

I kept thinking to myself that if I say it, I'll lose him somehow. But if I say nothing, it would be like walking away from it. And if I walk away from this, from him, from this pure acceptance of him and his appearance of acceptance of me...will I ever forgive myself?

DM: I feel something for you. I don't know what it is but it's strong. I don't want to label it now and say something imbecilic and have it change over time. I don't what it is, but I feel something for you. I don't know how to tell you what it is.

Michael: I definitely feel something for you, too.

DM: Really?

Michael: And I don't know just what it is, either. But it's something.

And we both went quiet and he stayed thinking. I could finally breathe and the tears waiting to fall fell back to their sources and I fell back into his arms. He told me he had hit an emotional wall and wasn't sure what to do with it. He's was also sad to learn he had the quintessential male emotional wall.

But there's something. And something's better than nothing.

"You're asking me 'Will my love grow?'
I don't know, I don't know
You stick around now, it may show
I don't know, I don't know..."

I don't know if this will make things awkward or not, but it seems that we're still on the same page. We feel something. The nature of this something hasn't yet manifested itself. For me, it feels like love. Love. I don't know the dangers of saying that, but the more I tell myself otherwise the more I feel that that's what this is. For me. Maybe I'm not alone this time.

I wrote this last night at 12:30 AM. So, if it isn't even vaguely coherent, that would be why.


The Halloween Weekend started last night, but tonight was the first official craziness that I partook of. But you want to hear about the rest of my day, don't you? Yes, of course you do.

So I had a midterm today in Comparative Literature and I think it went quite well. I don't think too many people decided to take on my essay topic, which makes me happy. I could've organized the essay a little better, but I was in a rush as always. So after that, Michael and I got ready for our escapade in State Street. I took the bus for the first time since I've been here and it was just as lacklustre as I had anticipated. So, we went thrift store shopping for our costumes. For some reason or another, Michael decided we should be Han Solo and Princess Leia, so we set out with that goal in mind. I found my costume fairly easily, but it was ridiculously expensive. I saw some of my hall buddies there. It was weird. Anyway, so Michael had a harder time with his Han get-up, but we managed to find two thirds of the costume. In our quest for Risk we came up empty-handed. No one in Santa Barbara carries that game.Pity. I wanted to take over a random country today.

After several other travails, we decided that we weren't hungry enough for Indian food and headed back. One of the actors from Twelve Angry People was on the bus going back. Michael let me rest my head on his shoulder on the way home, but it is difficult to sleep on a bumpy bus.

Long story short, we ate at DLG (again) and saw our first costume sightings. Nothing original. We went back to San Miguel to get ready for our little trek to Del Playa Drive (known as DP to the hard of core). With some minor adjustments to the outfits (namely the cutting of sleeves and the eliminating of shoulder pads *shiver*) and some serious problems with the Princess Leia buns, we headed out. The buns malfunctioned shortly after we set out, but we were photographed three separate times before we left, hence we shall be remembered correctly.

We then traversed to his hall, Anacapa, to drop off unnecessary items and check up on the random happenings. Not much was happening, although drunkenness was quite apparent in some parts of the hall. We saw two pimps within the space of a few feet. Sadness.

From there, we decided to head off to the DP. Unfortunately, the parties don't start until 9 and we had another hour to kill. Walking with our cardboard blasters, we decided to trek out over to the bluffs overlooking the ocean. Michael insisted on as much and I suspected it might be worth it. Before we made it to the bluffs, we stopped by a platform out by Manzanita village with an amazing view. I scanned the sky for familiar constellations and found Cassiopeia. As he hadn't heard the story, I took the liberty of filling him in on this nifty little circumpolar constellation (not your idea of romantic, eh?). When we looked back over the ocean, I saw a shooting star. Apparently, Mars was also out in the sky tonight. Michael tells me this is the closest it will be for 27 years. Such happiness. Anyway, we made it to this little area called Campus Point, this beautiful, secluded spot looking over the ocean and with a glimpse of the horizon from all directions. It was here, far away from the lights of campus and the noise, where the stars were brightest. And I saw two more shooting stars. Within Michael eventually saw two, also. We then tried to see if we'd see the same one, but it didn't work out. I saw another one, but he missed it. As it was cold, we had to hug to stay warm. I've never stargazed with a guy before. If my parents had any idea of where we were or how dark it was, they'd flip. But it was beautiful out there and so perfect.

Long story short, we headed back toward campus and arrived in DP, the land of a thousand chaoses. It wasn't nearly as bad as I had thought. There were covies of cops strategically placed all along the street. It was insane only in the fact that it looked like a mass exodue of psychotic people. Michael and I, with exception to one Darth Vader, were the only Star Wars people out there. There were more than enough girls wearing barely anything...sadness, once again. And there were a lot of guys dressed up as IV foot police. And beer kegs. I was very happy to see a few people in Team Zissou gear. And the most original group was the Dodgeball team; all of whom were arrayed in purple jerseys and headbands, dancing in unison. It was impressive.

Interesting/frightening episode of the night: Well, it all started on the way out of DP and we happen upon a group of people from Michael's hall. Because the two of us are in themed costumes and as the main couple of the original Star Wars trilogy, people think things. So, one of the guys takes Michael aside and one of the girls (inebriated out of her mind, no less) decides I need a talking-to. Here is the ensuing dialogue from this point:

Inebriated Girl: Are you two going out?

Me: No.

Inebriated Girl: Are you going to hook up?

Me: (nervously) No...

Inebriated Girl: No, you should hook up with him...seriously, he needs some play.

Me: What?!

Inebriated Girl: No, seriously, I know this guy and he needs some play. You need to hook-up with him tonight. Do you need a condom? I've got plenty. I could hook you up.

Me: No, I'm good. (awkward pause)

Inebriated Girl: But seriously, you should hook up with that guy. Have fun tonight.

Me: (walking away) Yeah, you, too. (begins laughing hysterically to herself)

Apparently, the guy who consulted Michael had the same advice and two pockets full of condoms. The two of us just walked away and laughed to ourselves over how utterly...I don't even know what adjective to place after that utterly. Weird...shit. That's all I have to say. We laughed it off though.

Michael: I guess we should've expected it.

Me: Yeah, but Han and Leia don't hook up or anything until Episode 5.

Michael: Yeah, and we are obviously from Episode 4.

Me: Yeah, so at this point we still hate each other.

Fun times. It is late and I need to sleep like no other. Conclusion to the night? Michael and I did not indulge in the suggested activity. Instead, we sort of passed out on my floor and shared my roommate's pillow and took a light rest. We snuggled a bit, but nothing out of the ordinary. And we were still in costume because we were too exhausted to move. He left about an hour ago, both our honors still intact. Who needs sex when you can flippin' cuddle? And on a perfectly platonic level? People...why???

Never mind that, it was a wonderful night. I need to sleep.

My life is rated PG.
What is your life rated?

Even in college this remains the case. I am proud to be a prude, dammit.

Dear God...this can't be happening. I'm falling in love with someone. No, I shouldn't say it like that because then I will fall in love with him and then I'll be in serious trouble. This is not happening...but it is.

All the queasy little feelings of my past are coming back to haunt me. When I think of him I feel tingly in my feet, as if I need to jump for joy. Today, as I was walking to meet him for lunch, I saw him see me and the two of us waved...and we smiled in unison. Not your average smile, but a truly happy one. It was so strong on my face I had to break the gaze. But when I looked up, he was still looking my way, smiling. I felt like I could fly.

Part of me, as always, tells me that I'm overanalyzing and I'm blowing it out of proportion. I keep telling myself that we're friend, we're friends and nothing more. Nothing more, dammit! But something's there in the pit of my stomach. I notice his hands shake when I'm around him...nerves? Forgive the nature of this letter, I'm afraid I'm much too out of sorts to be organized and concise.

Part of me always says it will end badly. There's no hope. He's just not that into you (fucking book). But I still have that feeling in the pit of my stomach and the soles of my feet and on my cheeks when I smile.

But what if he is into me after all? We spent almost an entire day together last Friday. He went to my damn rehearsal and just sat there the whole hour and a half, just watching. And he didn't even mind. Maybe it's only because he has nothing better to do and I'm a good means of distraction because I have plenty to do. That seems logical, right? He always says, "Oh, well I have nothing better to do anyway." So maybe I'm just filler for him.

Filler. There we go again. Why is it so hard for me to think someone could like me? Is there something so terrible about me I'm destined to be alone because of self-defeating prophecies like these? I tell him all the time that I'm a mess and he always says no.

"No, you're not a mess. I've seen messes before and you are not one."
"Then what am I, Michael?"
"You're Dawn Marie."

The way he said that last bit made me want to kiss him. He came over tonight to study for the midterm in Comparative Lit. (and we did study thoroughly) and I just wanted to be in his arms (what a bloody loser!). As always, I did the majority of the talking, but he did speak up now and again and gave some good points. It was just good to know that I remembered that much from the course and have someone there to verify it. That's actually the best way to study, in my opinion. But anyway, after we felt we had covered everything sufficiently (by this point, we are sharing a pillow and are shoulder to shoulder. I am a brilliant tactician. I also discovered some of his ticklish spots, namely feet and under the ribs) I put my head on his shoulder and he simply leaned his head up against mine within seconds. It was a simple gesture, but it was so perfect. So we stayed like that, on the floor, sharing the pillow, and cuddled up to a degree. And, being the freak that I am, I managed to pick out his heartbeat. It was beating so fast at first and then it seemed to settle down. Where our heads touched there emanated this incredible warmth. I wanted more than anything to put my arms around him and hold him, but I didn't want to ruin the beauty of what was already happening.

Beauty...is that what it was? Closeness...God, what is wrong with me? I am totally gone, am I not? I care for him...how could I not? We like each other, I just know it. Why else would we hang out so much and why would he insist I stick around this weekend if not to hang out with him? Why am I so damned confused?

It's so hard to tell whether or not we are just friends or if there's the possibility for something more. I think there could be, but I shouldn't be terribly disappointed if nothing happens because I enjoy his friendship, too. We're good friends and I think he's the best friend I have around here. Maybe the only real friend I have here. Could that be why I want to love him? Just to give more credence to this feeling of companionship and communion? Or is it mutual?

I am so sorry to put any of you through the hell of reading this (if you did get past the first sentences that were simply dripping with gooey, lovey dovey crap). But I might have reason to think there's more. Or maybe I'm crazy.

But I could be falling in love. And this time with someone more than worth loving. Is it better to love and lose than to not love at all? Of course and I speak from experience. At least unrequited love makes you feel. "since feeling is first/who pays any attention/to the syntax of things/will never wholly kiss you//wholly to be a fool/while Spring is in the world/my blood approves/and kisses are a better fate than wisdom//...which says we are for each other/then laugh, leaning back in my arms//for life's not a paragragh/and death i think is no parenthesis." -e.e. cummings

Question(s):

What does it mean when a guy will walk you to where your bike's parked if it's in the opposite direction of where his happens to be?

What does it mean if this same guy calls you and comes over to talk and stays for five hours just talking?

What does it mean if this same guy hangs out with you all day after class and even stays at your rehearsal for nearly two hours just to watch?

What does it mean when he tells you that he would walk you home from any distance if you asked him to?

and What does it mean if said guy will stay in the room even if you're taking a nap or resting your eyes?

Any takers?

You are my sweetest downfall
I loved you first, I loved you first
beneath the sheets of paper lies my truth
I have to go, I have to go
Your hair was long when we first met

Samson went back to bed
not much hair left on his head
he ate a slice of wonderbread and then went back to bed
and the history book forgot about us and the Bible didn't mention us
and the Bible didn't mention us, not even once

you are my sweetest downfall
I loved you first , I loved you first
Beneath the stars came falling on our heads
But they're just soft light, they're just soft light
Your hair was long when we first met

Samson came to my bed
Told me that my hair was red
He told me i was beautiful and came into my bed
Oh I cut his hair myself one night
A pair of dull scissors in the yellow light
And he told me that I'd done alright
and kissed me till the morning light, the morning light
and he kissed me till the morning light

Samson went back to bed
not much hair left on his head
Ate a slice of wonderbread and went right back to bed
Oh, we couldn't bring the columns down
Yeah we couldn't destroy a single one
And history books forgot about us
And the bible didn't mention us, not even once

You are my sweetest downfall
I loved you first

Samson by Regina Spektor

Harry Potter Meme of All Memes by Osaku
Name/Username
Age
Gender
House	Slytherin
Wand	Oak, 9", Veela Hair
Best Course	Muggle Studies
Worst Course	Herbology
Pet	Scottish fold cat
Patronus	Serpent
Quidditch Job	Beater
Wizard Candy	Sugar Quills
Profession After School	Death Eater
Quiz created with MemeGen!

Today was the first day that I encountered two of worst nightmares: 1) not completely an assignment when it was due on purpose and 2) Riding my bike on the paths for the first time.

Yes, I'm now officially a college student at UCSB. Procrastination and rebellious bike-riders are us. I must've been hilarious out there today; I was passed by about fifty different people because I was peddling like a granny. I couldn't help it because I was scared shitless. People ride by in a flying fury to get to their classes and I'm just peddling to figure out where the fuck I'm going. It wasn't too bad though, I must say. I feel like an idiot for not doing it sooner because it is so much faster than walking. And I didn't hit any pedestrians, but I did cut off this guy going into IV and nearly splattered both of us along the pavement. I'm pretty sure he had the right of way, too...shit!

And as per the assignment, it wasn't that big of a deal. It was a reading assignment after all. Still, last night I decided to make sleep a priority over my studies for once. Funny thing is, I still didn't get to sleep that early because last night was the unofficial start of the parties. Why didn't I partake of these parties, you ask? Because people are completely out of their minds! and I was tired.

The play is progressing and I have already begun to develop my character. I need to do a shitload of character development this weekend, if I have time between the actual course work I'm doing. Damn you, Quarter system, damn you!

Anyway, that's my report for the moment. Much love.

<td align="center">You will be famous for being a Poker Star



You have incredible intuition, and although you don’t desire fame or fortune you will eventually get both.

Take this quiz at QuizGalaxy.com</td>

Ladies and gentlemen, I am going to be in a play. Yes, I said that. I auditioned on Wednesday night and found out this morning that I'm going to be playing Juror 11 in a mixed-gender adaptation of Twelve Angry Men; Twelve Angry Jurors, in our case.

So how did this happen? I'll tell you: sometime on Monday I received a flyer from these two girls promoting an upcoming audition for the play. I pondered it for a bit, looked at the times for the audition, and decided that I might want to try out. Actors only had to show up and cold read sides from the script for 15 minutes each and we'd be cast from that point on. On Wednesday morning during a break in English, I ran down to the Old Little Theatre and signed up for 7:15 that night. I went back later that afternoon and looked at the character descriptions and picked up a side. Nevertheless, I came into the reading basically cold. The audition went well though; I read the parts of four different jurors. Toward the end of my time, the director (she and her producer were the two girls who gave me the flyers to begin with) asked me if I was good at accents. I told her that they were actually one of my specialties and she asked if I could try an Eastern European accent. Though it wasn't solid (nor did it have to be) it was still good enough to impress her. I am now playing Juror 11, an immigrant from an unknown Soviet satellite (But I'm going to assert that I am from Croatia). Needless to say, I am excited out of my mind. My first audition at college and I nailed it. Granted, it is a student-directed production, but it is nearly impossible for freshman (or anyone, really) to break into the bigger productions here; unless you sell your soul or something. So I'm very happy and excited at this new prospect. I can still call myself a drama dork.

For those of you who would like to see the play, it will be performed on November 17, 18, and 19. I don't yet know that times and where we will be performing, but I will keep you posted. Please come if you can.

I miss all of you and I wish you much happiness. Life can be so beautiful here that it makes me overly sentimental. Today I saw a hummingbird lingering by some lilies and it literally flew past my face. It was beautiful. So much here makes me want to kiss life, as my drama teacher would say. You haven't lived until you've seen the way the sunset hits the water of our lagoon, or seen the egrets glide across its waters. It's all so terribly beautiful.

Ladies and gentlemen, I am officially moved in and I'm loving it! I am currently a resident of the Performing and Creative Arts floor of San Miguel Hall. My room has a most picturesque view of the lagoon and a small sliver of the Pacific. We don't have air conditioning in the dorms because the breeze here is a constant. I've met many of my neighbors in the surrounding rooms and almost have all their names down. It's been a crazy couple of days; plenty of activities, people, and socializing to go around. Not to mention free food and refreshments. :]

Everyone here is remarkably friendly and helpful. My neighbors across the hall are possibly the coolest people on the planet. My roommate and I are getting on just fine, but we both occupy our times on vastly different schedules. Classes haven't started yet, but once they do, we probably won't see each other at all. Most of her classes are in the morning and the majority of mine are in the mid-to-late afternoon. On the whole, I can't complain about her. She's quiet, personable, and hardly troublesome. So we were matched quite well.

The performing arts floor kicks ass beyond the scope of reason. We have a harpist, several guitarists, and many actors/choir people around. We're not all majoring in creative fields, but we all have a sense of unity in terms of our artisitic inclinations.

I find that socializing requires one key factor: initiation on my part. Granted, I have had my share of interesting conversations sparked by someone else, but the better ones have been initiated by yours truly. At DLG (De La Guerra Dining Commons), I have run into some very interesting characters. Case in point: Antonio. He came and sat at my table and we just hit it off. It's so incredibly refreshing to meet someone who loves Shakespeare and all the great poets. He even professed an affinity for Emily Dickinson and Walt Whitman *swoon*. We've exchanged numbers but haven't spoken since that night. He's hot, too. My God, I love this place. At any rate, I met another lad at the Welcome Dance. I was feeling remarkably awkward since I wasn't acquainted with many people yet and I happened to notice him off by himself, too. I kept seeing him and kept thinking that he was looking for someone, but I finally broke down, said "what the hell", and asked him to dance with me. He told me he couldn't dance but I pledged to teach him all of my moves. We spent much of the time talking and we eventually came to the conclusion that we might have a class together. Random meetings like that happen all over the place here. I met a girl today at DLG today who knows one of the girls across the hall from me and we had a good conversation. Needless to say, I've been having an absolute blast.

It is so bloody refreshing to meet people who have a passion and a focus (some people to the point of absurdity). The first few social events have felt like high school revisited (cliques, covies, & posses all about); in truth, though, we couldn't be further away dimensionally. I love being able to meet people who are genuinely interesting and genuinely interested in something. That's what I love about it here: people with drive and interests that spark fires in their minds. There isn't any other school on the planet I'd rather be at than right here. That singular fact keeps me going and exploring this beautiful new world of mine.

In conclusion my friends, I must admit that I miss your support and your presence. I hope we can all see each other soon and talk. Just know that I'm fine and I've never been so happy in all of my life.

Dear Friends,

This will likely, though might not be, my last entry for a while since I leave for school tomorrow at long last. Am I ecstatic? Yes. Freaked out? Of course. Am I ready to kick some major ass? You know it.

This is a necessary step for the rest of my life. I can't live the rest of my life as a sheltered girl and it's time to go out into the big world of college and learn more about everything around me. It'll be an interesting learning experience on many levels, but a worthwhile one.

I'd like to take this time to extend my thanks to you, my friends, for always supporting me; especially during my low points. For those of you still in high school, namely meishness and candyluver85, hang in there and fight the good fight. You'll get to this point soon enough. Try to enjoy what remains of high school. To my friends who have left the Royal/Santa Su nest, thank you for keeping in touch and for offering encouragement all these years.

I hope to write again sometime soon, but I'll have to take some time to get used to my new home before I go back to the virtual world. Once again, my thanks for being true blue amigos.

All of my love,

Dawn Marie

This summer, as a consequence of no social life, I was able to read nine books. Ten if you count the short Anna Quindlen one, which for all intents and purposes I will add on to my list. I shall list them in order of when I read them and tell you how good they are. Mainly, this is the patented "Dawn Marie Scale of Books Worth Your Time".  Please enjoy. Feel free to leave comments.

Bel Canto by Ann Patchett:

A novel of terrorism, love, and the dynamic of the Third World, Bel Canto is a triumphant work of art that paints all of its characters, from opera singers to guerrilla recruits, in the most humane and universally beautiful light. The novel takes place in an unknown South American country at a birthday party held for a prominent Japanese business. The party is made up of many foreigners and an American opera star, but all sense of order is thrown away when a terrorist clan takes over the building and holds the party-goers hostage. If I were to divulge any further details it would ruin the beautiful unravelling of the novel that leads even the skeptical reader into a false sense of assurance when tragedy is inevitable. This book is not a commentary on the terrorism as right nor is it entirely unsympathetic to the rebels; actually, the novel creates an amazingly human picture of the motivations and hardships of those who choose violence to speak out. What happens is both extraordinary but surprisingly probable as terrorist and hostage develop a kinship as they lie in wait for the government's reaction. It is hard to describe what makes this book amazing without relinquishing the key to its power, so I'll stop. Suffice it to say, this is one of the most compelling stories I've come across in a while. In our day in age, the message of this novel has great import.

DM Scale: 10 out fo 10

 Saturday by Ian McEwan:

I don't know how I ended up reading two novels about terrorism and its effects in sequence. But this novel takes place, ironically, in post-9/11 London. So this is the Western World's look at living with fear and possible disasters. But that is merely a backdrop to the modern life of middle-aged neurologist Henry Perowne, a well-adjusted man who is then faced with a hellish twenty-four hours after he witnesses a small plane crash. Naturally thinking Britain's terror number is up, Perowne spends the rest of the day straddling his own over-blown imagination and a less obvious threat that he opens himself up to in the space of his day. Again, I don't want to spoil the plot for you, but suffice it to say that weird shit happens. Not a very erudite statement, I know, but that's about what happens. The novel drones on, really, but once it reaches its climax the droning makes sense. McEwan presents a very realistic look inside our current mentality and how it acts as a sinister undertow that distracts us from all other possibilities of personal danger. Suffice it to say, this is stream-of-consciousness without the mindboggling jumps in logic. That may sound like a contradictory statement, but it works, I assure you. I have great respect for Mr. McEwan for his amazing work Atonement, so I can't say much in the way of criticism except to say the novel took a great deal of time to pick up. Regardless, McEwan has a knack for dead-on realism with psychological meanderings still tagging along.

DM Scale: 9 out of 10

Girl in Hyacinth Blue by Susan Vreeland

As is Vreeland's specialty, the novel focuses on the importance of art in life as well as its roots and permutations. This story follows the life of a single painting, a lost Vermeer of a girl sewing by a window, and traces its life back to each previous owner and even back to the young woman who is the subject of the work. Since it is a light read, I won't wax philosophical, but it definitely has its merits. A good little book if you want something short and sweet.

DM Scale: 8 out of 10

Lady Chatterley's Lover by D. H. Lawrence

I give credit to this book only because it broke many barriers and paved the way for our modern literature, but also likely birthed every pornographic novel since. Not to say this novel doesn't have its thematic significance; it offers a dismal look into the restlessness of the Lost Generation, or the Not-So-Lost-But-Still-Pissed-Off Generation as the case may be. The novel also portrays the telling signs of man recoiling from man in a society growing more modern and less personal. Still, I found little redeeming quality in the primary theme and prominent feature of the novel: the redemptive power of sex. If you ask me, I don't believe Lawrence feels any real sympathy toward his protagonist, Lady Chatterley, who takes two lovers after her husband is injured in WWI and left emasculated. Though she grows to realize she and her husband have little to connect them, she seeks out purely physical connections with two men, only one of whom lasts and results in pregnancy, go figure. As I said before, I don't believe Lawrence saw Lady Chatterley as a full human being, merely a lonely woman with an insatiable though understandable want for sex. I'll grant that Lawrence provides an all-too-realistic look into intimacy, but at the same time the intimacy is purely physical and at times putridly disjunct. The lovers have nothing to connect them but their physical need of each other, which seems no different from the lusts of the automatons Lawrence despises for their anonymity and brazen inhumanity. Perhaps I missed the message and I'm sad that I sound so prudish; in truth, I generally like the presence of sex in books, but this novel overuses it and misuses it on many levels. The book cover speaks of finding oneself through the redemption of physical love, but I believe Lady Chatterley loses herself more than anything. And I find little to argue against that point; I actually think even Lawrence believed it. Sadly, this is probably an accurate portrayal of the world, in which case I have since decided to remain an abstinent spinster with many cats.

DM Scale: 4 out of 10

The Sisterhood of the Travelling Pants by Ann Bresharis

I needed a light read after Chatterley, so don't give me any grief. Yes, this has virtually no literary merit, but I read it and liked it well enough. It determined for me once and for all that I have never been a normal teenage girl. But I guess that depends on your definition of normal. At any rate, this is an insightful and endearing look at all of the miniature dramas and major moments that define that awkward phase known as adolescence. Even crappy times in one's life have lessons to them. Bladdy-blah, I'm not going to try to make this sound significant, but read it if you need something vaguely funny and worth reading.

DM Scale: 6 out 10

*As I feel inexplicably lightheaded and tired, I shall continue the other half later. Assuming I remember that I started it in the first place.*

The Scale:

• 10: Highly worth your while with literary merit to boot.
• 9: Well worth your effort, perhaps more cumbersome in terms of length or subject matter
• 8: Good and stimulating, if not on varying levels
• 7: Good, but don't expect to see it on a required reading list
• 6: Enjoyable, but with its weaknesses
• 5: Average, a bit cumbersome and disinteresting.
• 4: You got through it, but barely
• 3: Bordering on worthless.
• 2: Not worth the time.
• 1: Drop it and forget it until further notice.

 

1. Go here.
2. Pass it on.
( my answers )

Hurricane Katrina has dominated much of the news and its no small wonder. The devastation of New Orleans and the disorientation of relief efforts seems uncannily foreign, as if this were happening in some far off country where resources are hard to come by and governments are self-serving dictatorships. What the hell? This America! Looking at New Orleans one would think that the situation would galvanize effort rather than immobilize it. It is truly pathetic. These people are suffering while the cabinet discusses budget semantics. What does this tell us about the Bush administration? Better yet, what does it tell us about what would happen in a non-natural disaster, if you catch my drift? This cyborg is pissed.

In other news, we are officially out of our old home. And I'm reading The Poisonwood Bible, which is absolutely amazing. I hope everyone has transitioned back to school well. My little sister is now at Royal and she is doing just fine. As for me, I don't move in until the 17th of September and classes start on the 22nd. You may think I'm lucky, but the suspense is killing me. I just want to go out and move in and get on with life.

I hope that this Katrina business straightens itself out soon. There's enough chaos in the world at large without there being chaos in our own backyard.

Indulge me here, I just had this thought two seconds ago.

Suppose that you are visited by an alien from an advanced civilization many galaxies away. (Never mind how or if this is possible) Suppose also that this alien, a really nice one with impeccable manners, asks to chat with you about your life.

Halfway through the conversation, your extraterrestrial compadre asks you this question: "So, what is the best part about living on planet Earth? What is the best part about being you? And what are the worst parts?"

Feel free to be as elaborate or discreet as you please. I was actually going to ask something more specific, such as, "what does it feel like to be a teenager" or something cliche like that, but being an earthling seems complicated enough. Feel free to say anything; this alien doesn't judge nor is s/he out to destroy Earth once you've told of how wonderful or crappy it is. I'm just curious.