22 for a day

socrates said that the unexamined life is not worth living, right? now that i've one more year i suppose it is time to reflect.

last night my roommate and i were talking about writing during our intensely (and surprisingly) pleasurable mushroom trip. she studies journalism and is in love with hunter s. thompson. during the trip she had the great idea (on the walk back to our friend's apartment) to ride the elevator to the top of our freshman dorm room and look at the view of seattle. awkwardness ensued. right before we got to the top floor luke says 'what if there's like, a floor meeting going on or something?' sure enough, there were not only tens of young college students gathered on floor 12 but they were all participating in what looked like a family board game night or something. why they spent their free sunday night (monday (today) is MLK day) in their dorm playing board games and not drinking til dawn was beyond us (especially due to the fact that we were tripping balls). but maybe we were the lame ones... 22 year olds who still do drugs on the weekends and find it enjoyable (even if quite uncomfortable) to put our our psychedelic selves on display. at any rate, i was convinced anne (roommate) was subjecting us to her crazy brand of journalism-- haven't asked yet if she's written anything about the trip, though. it was quite the improvement on the last experience i had with mushrooms. instead of munching fresh ones in amsterdam and proceeding to feel very uncomfortable, a bit depressed, and getting quite lost without our map, the trip last night was the cream of the crop.

i passed out for an hour or two during my own birthday party, was woken up by friend john who was poking me with a cane. i figured since it was my birthday i might as well go out and enjoy it, so i went upstairs to get all dressed and ready. when i came back down, anne presented me with a handful of dry, chewy, disgusting, amazing shrooms. i wasn't expecting to trip at all and even said so in my kitchen before leaving the house. thirty minutes later i was being chuckled at by the server at cha cha lounge as i laid back in my swivel chair and was overcome by the music and decor of the bar. though i was pretty apprehensive when i first came up, i quickly relaxed, leaned back and went where the drugs took me (which is why i ended up sprawled out with a huge grin on my face, getting laughed at by passers-by (i can't hide it at all when i'm having too much drug-fun)). since we were no longer wanting anything to do with alcohol (or anything else except staring and laughing at things), the bar was no longer an option. we began the trek to our friends apartment (insert above dormitory incident here). we made it back to the apt., where five of our other friends just happened to be tripping, too (on ecstacy and acid). what a perfect collision. i can't tell you how many tears i cried from laughing throughout the night. everything was just so great, so funny, i felt so at home and comfortable laid out on the floor feeling extremely and sublimely high in both brain and body. a few hours later, the come-down hit hard with a headache and the realization that it was ending. that was sad, obviously. but i am so grateful for a birthday well-spent with good friends and the fact that mushrooms are no longer on my shit list.

back to the first point i was trying to make (but got distracted)... about writing. i have felt compelled to do it lately. just in the last few weeks, i've wanted to write everything down. i'm discovering how hard it is, though, to capture all of my thoughts (or any of them for that matter). i start on one thing, pause, and my mind just goes haywire in all directions. it's not impossible to put these things into words; other writers have done it before. it's just that i'm hardly starting out. in one of her journalism classes, anne said they talked about writing and why people do it. obviously there are many reasons and perhaps multiple ones for each person. i'm trying to figure out what exactly it is that is making me want to write. i think it has something to do with someone i met a couple weeks ago. although i'd thought to write things down at many instances before, i didn't ever start jotting ideas in a journal or this here blog until just after he left my life. so that's one of the reasons-- trying to get over a relationship that didn't even have a chance to start. but before that... what made me want to write?
--does it mean that i think what i have to say is valuable enough for other people to want to read it and appreciate it?
--is it just because i want some written accounts to look back on later, either to laugh at or to gain some insight into whatever progress i may have made?
--or is it simply that i have too many thoughts cluttering up my brain and i just need some release (so, not necessarily having to do with my writings being read, whether by me or others, at all)?

it probably has something to do with all of these things. i will keep thinking about it...

in other news,
i really loved breakfast on pluto... not only am i in love with cillian murphy even more but it made me smile even at the most dire or depressing moments because of its hilarious and random eccentricities. reminded me a lot of running with scissors, but in the UK... so the accents rock. after the mushroom-comedown tv-movie marathon this morning, freaks and geeks could now easily be called my favorite show though i've only seen about half of the episodes. since graduating, i've never felt the slightest urge to want to go back to high school, but it does make me feel just a bit nostalgic. i plan on watching the rest of the episodes soon, with frequent repetitions to follow (i have become a strong believer that the only way to watch tv is on dvd).

i suppose this didn't exactly end up being a life examination but it's all the time i have for now. haha. perhaps some other day i will want to think about accomplishments done and to come and all that. now it's upstairs to read and take notes for art history, then wake for geology at 7 in the morning.

ciao tutti