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Sunday, October 03, 2004

Today, I am putting off a metric shitload of study for my midterm exams. I would probably do all right if I didn't study, but I want to kick arse, so study is necessary. I also need to bump up my Visual Basic marks after I super-rushed an assignment last week and did poorly as a result. Hey, I was moving. And combined assignments are only worth 25% of the final mark in VB. It was either the assignment or the living room decor, and the living room decor took priority.

Something about moving brings out the rabid Martha Stewart in me. The thought has crossed my mind several times in the past two weeks that one day I should try my hand at artfuck interior design. If I had my own building and unlimited funds ... oh, the things I would do.

Matt is at the christening of our nephew. I have excused myself because of study and because my allergies are out of control. I need to turn off a runny mucus tap somewhere in my head. Despite having popped two Sudafed, I can't stop sneezing for more than five minutes at a time.

I spoke to the neighbors on the other side of my house (i.e. not the Virgin Mary neighbors) and they appear to be great people! Nancy is an older lady who occupies her time making dolls and playing with her cat and her dog Daisy. Judy is younger, and works in web design for Gannett Fleming. On the other side of them is Nathan, who is involved in local theater - in fact, he's in Pirates of Penzance with Theater Harrisburg at the moment. He told me I should audition for TH, but I think I'll stick to paid gigs as long as I can get them (and so far, I've had plenty of luck).

Judy and Nancy turned to gossip after only a little prodding, and revealed that the Virgin Mary household are definitely eccentric and redneck, and the folk who live upstairs have "sex parties." It just keeps getting better!

After watching Pecker the other night (thanks to the free trial of Blockbuster's Netflix ripoff), I can't see the Virgin Mary in my neighbors' front yard without chirping "Full of grace! Full of grace!" Every little coping mechanism helps.

Joe e-mailed me from Perth, where he is holidaying at the moment. Apparently Mum is doing all right, and Trevor really seems to help her moods and calm her down when she becomes agitated. I sent her a letter last week explaining that Matt and I are not going to buy a house for a couple of years and that we are investing the money she's given us. I hope she re-establishes contact. Occasionally I feel so empty, like I'm missing something important, and I think it might be the fact that I can't tell her about my success at college. For a dozen years of my early life, I achieved good grades purely to earn her approval. Now I'm doing it on my own, and we're so estranged that I can't make her proud. Part of me thinks I shouldn't have to - that I should be achieving for myself. But seeking her approval is a hard habit to shake. I'm certain the only reason I perform (musically and theatrically) is to seek the open approval I never received from my mother from an audience of strangers. It never fully suffices. But I keep trying.
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