I knew the victim decently well, he was an old student of my mother's. The shooter was, as well. My brother's best friend was in the class.

My mother called; she was really hysterical. He was a favorite student of hers. I remember him. Larry King. Strange, nice little fellow. Had lots of problems with bullies. Which, I suppose, never did let up.

Student shot in Oxnard

More when I can get my thoughts together.

I have the best roommate in the whole wide world. She understands everything.

That is all.

Could my neighbors be watching Moulin Rouge any more loudly? Sheesh.

Spent 5-6 hours working on OPI (one of our big useless construction-based parties!) today. Was tiiiiired, but did math homework anyway. I should finish something else, but instead I have a tendency to do a bit of lots of assignments while doing stupid things like updating my livejournal.

Thursday and today I felt a little happier anyway, which is good. I shouldn't be depressed here, really, there's too many distractions for that and I just don't have time. My roommate was pretty down by the end of last term, but she seems to be handling it quite well now. "I just decided I couldn't deal with all that...emotional stuff" she said. I really hope I can do the same...if not, I may have to see about going to the health center and finding a therapist or something.

This is pointless, just don't want to write up chem prelab questions. Blah.

Yeah, so I think I've been a total bitch to at least two people today, but I'm afraid to apologize, so much later, because sometimes people are like "Oh, it's okay," and that's good, but sometimes they're like "What the hell are you talking about?!" and this unsettles me because I have NO FUCKING CLUE how I come off to people, apparently.

Plus I just dismissed someone rather curtly, but in my defense he needs to go to sleep for class tomorrow and if I continued talking to him it was increasingly likely I was going to cry, which would probably entail him staying up longer because he's a sweet guy. But no. Not gonna happen. I was strong! haha

I dunno, I want to cry for stupid reasons now. I think the stress just gets to me by making me overemotional. I don't know whether it's the stress of term, or the leftover stress of home.

* * *

Whatever. Here's a meme I stole, at 4.15am ;P

Meme: What does your album look like?

1. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Special:Random) The first article title on the page is the name of your band.
Vestignè

2. (http://www.quotationspage.com/random.php3) The last four words of the very last quote is the title of your album.
"rather than the victim"

3. (http://www.flickr.com/explore/interesting/7days) The third picture, no matter what it is, will be your album cover.

4. Use your graphics program of choice to throw them together, and post the result as a comment in this post. Also, pass it along in your own journal because it's more amusing that way.

Since I was a very small child, I've had nightmares, dreams about books, and the running dreams.

My running dreams are simple, always follow the same plot, though the characters differ. I am some person, child, animal, in a loving home surrounded by people who care about me. I either do something which temporarily causes their annoyance and my guilt, or I just feel immensely, immensely guilty, like I don't deserve the place where I am, like they should find someone better.

(One reflects less about how dreadfully emo one's thoughts are, in a dream.)

The dream is very direct. I run, first from place to place, but they always find me, and I take off again, until finally I'm just running, running, all out, full tilt, leaping like a cat or a video game character from building to building, jumping fences in single bounds.

I'm running out of guilt, self-pity, at least at first. But there's another layer in the dream, that always comes through after I've been running for a while and they're still chasing me goddammit, why do they want me back? There's some other motivation I have. When I'm running, when they're so far behind me I can hardly see them, when I'm darting left and right and almost flying from the tops of trees and buildings and freeway overpasses--I am so close to free.

Sometimes, I wake up and feel shame and yearning.

Sometimes, I wake up and am just frustrated that I couldn't run faster.

Just went out in the 40-degree weather barefoot, questing for a blue book and a carrot juice.

Wrote FINAL 10pm-2am on my door.

Reluctantly hid away my calculator, notes (wait! does continuity imply differentiability? yes. okay.), and book.

Time to take a math final.

*crosses fingers*

* * *

ETA: Sweet Jesus, I'll be lucky if I came close to passing that. I'm only 2 hours and ten minutes through, but I've done everything I can do. Two questions were easy, two I knew about halfway, one I made a guess that may be right or entirely wrong, and two I had no clue at all. Gar.

I dunno if the problem's just plain old insomnia, or if I've flipped my sleep schedule to a nocturnal one, or I've pushed through the first weeks of sleep deprivation into some realm of I know not what, but I can't sleep this week. I was doing so well, before--not getting much, but getting it any time, in any amount, almost polyphasic.

I'm back to the old ways, now, save that the whole schedule's set about three hours later and waking up at nine feels like tearing myself out of bed at six. Jesus, I'm glad they give us two easy terms to get used to this.

I'll find a groove eventually, after a year; one that involves more studying, less socializing, and the slightly more serious (har har) demeanor befitting the wise sophomore. People can manage to get 8 hours a night here, especially with majors like ACM, and to go to bed at reasonable times. Even for phys majors, it can be done.

But for now, I'm a frosh, my classes are all pass/fail, no sets are due tomorrow, and I can hang out and goof off, if not all I want, at least all I could ever hope for.

Frosh rebellion on Friday; it's gonna be good. Then there's the zombie attack planned, and after that, pajama party at Ricketts. Gosh, busy busy, always busy. ;D

i am sitting here, at 3-something, 4-something in the morning, quite unable to sleep because i am so anxious for my roommate and Dan, who're working on a lab. (they got totally fucked over for the due date, it was bad. at 3 o'clock today it was due in a week. at 4 o'clock today, it was due tomorrow.)

i'm on the couch, watching them, absent-mindedly editing my hum essay, trying to ask at convenient intervals whether i can be any help. on that couch sit two people i care about as much as anything in the world. i would, without a doubt, without hesitation, do anything for either of them. and goddammit, they might just do the same for me.

i haven't had that feeling in a while.

So tired, so busy. Our band (concert, I'm playing tenor 'cause I'm the only one) is playing at Carnegie Hall in May. No time to practice ahhh.

Brilliantly, miraculously, I have all my homework for tomorrow done, and it's only 10.13.

YAY

must work more.