When everything seems either funny or lousy

It's been a wig night. I've been wearing the blue punk rock wig and willing myself to become that girl. That's the best thing about all of my wigs and hats; they keep other people inside of them and these are people that I can pull out whenever I'm feeling worn thin. I'm trying to be very brave. People keep telling me that I'm brave because of the whole moving to Seattle thing, but it doesn't feel like it. Occasionally I forget that I'm wearing a wig and answer the door with them on and it's always funny to watch them react.

I am such a virgo. I need to chill out.

I just don't know. I feel like I'm talking into a corner and if I just yap long enough I'll figure something out. I write too much here, and I write too many letters that I'll never send. All I'm really doing is talking to myself.

I don't know who else to talk to. Things sound pretty silly once they're out of my brain, which probably means that they're pretty silly in general. I need a drink or a hug or, I don't know, some ice cream.

My sunburn is peeling. It's pretty freaking gross.

I am...not sure who I become when I close my eyes. I want to be on the road. I want to take a road trip...to Colorado, maybe, or the desert. I want to eat food in roadside diners with ugly people that only have three fingers. I wish that my car didn't suck...that I didn't suck, that I actually could still take off for a week without any problems.

Because knowing your own mind is extremely fucking cool.

Ok, so my new plan (yes, this is Toby's cue to roll his eyes and sigh 'not another samantha plan!') is to go to fashion school. Why not, yo? I love fashion, so a merch. degree would be right up my alley.

Or maybe I'll finish my B.A. in Art History and dump the A.A.

Or maybe I'll finish my B.A. in Physics.

Maybe all this going foreward with my education is the wrong idea. I'm still only 20 for another month, and after that I'll only be 21. Having my M.A. done by 24 seems to be vaguely unrealistic, anyways. Enough going foreward. Let's start moving sideways!

I'm suffocating without a prospect of school, and I need to broaden my options. I love school...I love taking new classes and meeting new people who are doing the same thing. And I still love degrees. This isn't to say that I don't still want those two M.A.s and that Ph.D. I just don't want them enough to move back to the East Coast to get them.

So I've requested info from the Art Institute on their fashion merch. program, and I guess my next step is to talk to UW about how to get in as a post bac student if I can't get in as a grad one.

I'm so stubborn.

This means it's time to get back to "Freebasing Text: The Rhetoric of Word Art." I have to make this paper do something new. I have to make it -sing-. Anyone got any spare copies of "The Rhetorical Tradition" or "Classical Rhetoric for the Modern Student?" I could also use anything by Bitzer and, oh, Jenny Holzer's home phone number. Everyone got that?

Also, the man with yellow fingertips and thumbs talks to me during the day now, while I'm awake. Is this a bad sign?