... still trying figure out how to balance having my own space and my need for being desired.
often we forget to draw boundaries, especially when it comes to the ones that you care about. you do the best that you can, but sometimes they need to be set.
i began sneezing saturday and i feel pretty ill this evening. slept for an hour til i got a bunch of txts from silva in re med school applications. i'm glad that i can be of help. it'll be more neocitrin drinkin' for me tomorrow at work. it's getting quite busy and in a way, having my day go by faster is appreciated.
the reverse trick of treating at sec went really well, didn't end up going to the zoo (again)... instead we opted for a day of laziness. the third time is the charm? we're supposed to go this sunday, but the forecast says it's going to rain. i've been joking about the significance of going to the zoo over the years, but i think it's actually becoming something.
i've been wanting to read the atonement by ian mcewan. Adrie have been raving about the book, and i really liked some of the quotes from that book like:
"The cost of oblivious daydreaming was always this moment of return, the realignment with what had been before and now seemed a little worse. Her reverie, once rich in plausible details, had become a passing silliness before the hard mass of the actual. It was difficult to come back." (p. 72)
"Nothing as singular or as important had happened since the day of his birth. She returned his gaze, struck by the sense of her own transformation, and overwhelmed by the beauty in a face which a lifetime's habit had taught her to ignore. She whispered his name with the deliberation of a child trying out the distinct sounds. When he replied with her name, it sounded like a new word - the syllables remained the same, the meaning was different. Finally he spoke the three simple words that no amount of bad art or bad faith can ever quite cheapen. She repeated them, with exactly the same emphasis on the second word, as if she had been the one to say them first. He had no religious belief, but it was impossible not to think of an invisible presence or witness in the room, and that these words spoken aloud were like signatures on an unseen contract." (p. 129)
