I was worried that I'd fallen a little out of love with my favourite television show, but fear not. A weekend spent watching dvds (and not even the best seasons!) and my love is renewed. It really is a fabulous show. Such well developed characters. I think it's the way they interact that really makes it... well, just so darn brilliant!

Really not sure what's going on with Josh's hair in season 6 though. Not sure what's going on with Abby's hair ever.

I read a lot of fanfiction. It's probably my biggest distraction from work, study, life. I think it's basically because I'm in love with the idea of falling in love, of being loved. So I'm a mushy romantic at heart. But that's not the point. I've read so many stories, and the really good ones hardly ever have happy endings. They end in death and sadness and regret, with maybe only a distant, happy memory to sustain the one left behind. And quite a bit of the time, these stories have be sobbing my eyes out (especially Meredith Bronwyn Mallory whose MASH fics I've just discovered and that are breaking my heart a little more with each one). But I think the reason that I'm compelled to keep reading is that these characters experienced something huge and real, if even for a moment before they lost it. And that's what I want. If even for a moment.

A good friend of mine died a few years ago. I miss her terribly. I'm thinking of her now, though, because apart from these stories, remembering her is one of the other things that reduce me to tears. And why I think it's so terribly unfair that she didn't get more than 19 years of life. She didn't get a big romance, she was never in love, she never lost, and (other than friends and family who feel her loss so deeply) she left no one behind who was in love with her. And I absolutely hate that. I hate that she didn't get her love story, and maybe that makes me a little afraid I won't get mine.

If this works, I will be exceptionally proud of myself, and not just because I apparently have a traveler IQ of 119, go me!

It's kind of a running joke amongst my friends, that I'm something of a grandma - going to bed early, drinking too much tea, knitting, getting hit on by men old enough to be my father, if not my grandfather. But last night, watching an episode of Grumpy Old Women, i found myself agreeing with far too much with what they were saying. Disconcerting to say the least.

Discovering a new fandom

1. The West Wing
2. Doctor Who
3. Top Gear
4. ER
5. CSI
6. Spooks
7. Weeds
8. The Closer
9. M*A*S*H
10. Life on Mars
11. Grey's Anatomy

Reading back through my first entry, I think I made my life sound quite a bit more hopeless and angsty than it really is. I think I'm generally a happy person.

As crazy as my family is, I love them and they love me. I have some excellent friends (an increasing number who seem to be on anti-depressants interestingly enough). I watch too much tv but I'm ok with that. I love fashion and all pretty girly things. I knit, drink copious amounts of tea and go to bed early. I'm a little bit of a grandma. I love music. I buy too many scarves. I love vegemite and anchovies (not together). I'm a vegetarian. I spend too much time thinking about my hair. I am obsessed with buying things on the internet. I like marking off dates on a calendar. I hate people who don't indicate properly when driving. I love rainy days. And I make lists.

So this is it. This is me doing something that I've been planning to do for just about as long as I've been using the internet, which is really quite a while now. Having a horrible thesis to write has motivated me to do all sorts of things I thought I'd never get around to doing (making an entry in my livejournal included).  In the last month I've cleaned my bedroom more than half a dozen times, kept up with my readings for class, and even done extra hours at work - all in the name of avoiding writing/researching my horrible thesis. Nothing motivates me so much as avoidance of things I really don't want to do.
I doubt very much that anyone will read this, so I suppose it's more of personal, cathartic exercise (in addition to the aforementioned procrastination). I used to keep a diary in highschool. Writing thoughts down stops them from buzzing quite so loudly around my head. That's what I intend for this I guess. Random, stream of consciousness-type entries about nothing so much as all the stupid and inconsequential things that I choose to occupy my brain matter with.

Why do I think this might be important or helpful?

1. I am about to get to the end of my life plan. This probably makes it sound a bit more formal than it actually is. When I say plan, I mean, get through highschool, apply to university, go to university, graduate. Once I reached graduation, I assumed that I would get some sort of job, and that what I wanted to do with my life would have become clear. It really hasn't, and now I'm a matter of months away from being completely free of university life (assuming I can actually finish horrible thesis) and I have no plan left. It's a bit terrifying.
2. I suppose the sexual identity crisis is also a major contributing factor to my stress levels/distraction. I am 21 years old and I honestly have no idea if I'm gay, straight, or both. It's frustrating to say the least, and I have no idea what to do about it.
3. My father is an emotionally abusive alcoholic. I don't know what else to say about this right now, except that I have no one who I can really talk about it with.

So that's it. If I manage to make more than a couple more entries I think that will be an achievement.