I hear you're countin sheep again Mary Jane, what's the point of trying to dream anymore

Alright I haven't updated in a while so here's what's been going on:

Godzilla died on Sunday night. I was (am) very sad. But I'd prefer to keep that for myself and not cast the light of the tradically misunderstood on it, as sometimes (most-of-the-times) happens to things when they're blogged about.

Someone hit my car...while it was parked. I got the guy's information but whether or not he has insurence and the extent of the damage are yet to be determined. So it athletic/mooching time Jen for a while. YAY! for buses.

I finally understand why they call it "Massage Therapy." Carl and I were talking yesterday about our respective Blue Funks and I realized that the only thing that broke mine up was that fantastic full body massage I was treated to (I hope everyone's significant other does that for them one day). It wasn't so much that my muscles felt relaxed afterwords (which they did--like Jello! but in sort of that very comfortable way where it just feels like that's the way it's supposted to be) I just had an enormous amount of energy and a fantastically more positive outlook on life after that. It was awesome. Carl, however, has been in Blue Funk's Ville all the way. Then I saw a "Massage Therapy" advertisement on the bus ride home and suddenly that term made enormous sense.

I also understand the term "Quarter Life Crisis" a little better. Mid-Life Crises never made sense to me. How can you possibly feel trapped by a house and a car and a job and a wife and kids? Isn't that what you wanted? Isn't that what you spent your entire life working towards? Don't pretend to be trapped in the life you created and continue to perpetuate for yourself...was always the way I saw it. But the other day (on the bus) I suddenly felt very trapped. I didn't want to be in that bus. I didn't want to be in Gainesville. And more then that I didn't want to be on my way to class. And I suddenly had a very great desire to have a motorcycle. And to leave. And to just keep going. To just drop my backpack and ditch my cell phone and not look back...find Billy and escape to a bed a breakfast somewhere and in the morning get a one way ticket to Anywhere-But-Here.

This afternoon I started walking. I don't know why. I'm not an impulsive person. It was very Forrest Gump, but more Eternal Sunshine. I went to the computer lab inbetween classes to watch a prerecorded lecture, but the page wouldn't load. So I tried it again. Still it didn't work. I tried to blog. No good. I switched computers. Still nothing. So I left.

I walked out of the lab. Down the hallway. Out onto the Sun Terrace and out of the building. But I didn't stop. I don't know why I didn't stop. I just felt like walking. I walked up the hill and up to the main campus. I just walked. I wasn't going anywhere. I didn't have any place to be. So I just kept walking.

But every where I went there were lines of people. Just people lined up all over the place like they wanted something--like they knew something I didn't. I thought it was a fantastic metaphor. (Diversion: I thought that would be a neat idea for a short film. A 24 hour span of time that occurs in the life of every student in every university across the country, and in the background of all of the shots are long lines of people. And one friend will ask the other "What's going on--why are all these people in line?" "I guess they're just people who know what they want." And the movie ends when he gets in line. I'll call it "Lines" and it'll be about theatre majors.) So I just walked. Randomly.

A part of me would like to say I skipped class and kept walking. It's what I ment to do. But somehow or another I ended up back at the Pharm building in time for class. Of course.

I would like some chocolate.

I would like my car.

I would like some healthy food.

I would like to see Billy.

I would like some money.

I would like for my blogs to be entertaining and not depressing.

I think I should sleep.