November to December

December. It's finally here. And hopefully it will be better than the last 1/12th of the year.

It has been a very emotional month. I don't know how many of you remember, but earlier this spring set out to decide if April really was the cruelest month. I discovered that it wasn't. March was. And I have now come to the conclusion that November is the March of the fall.

This past November I have felt alone, seen Obama and Biden re-elected, hid beans around Bryant Park, went to a farm, won/stole a bunch of condoms, went back to astronomy club, registered for classes, burned bridges, asked out a guy, was turned down by said guy, had the best birthday I've had in years, saw movies with old friends, been depressed, and wanted to leave. I have become increasingly sure that I have a depressive disorder, possibly manic. I saw got to go to Wegman's and saw my friend E.J. working there. And I did some things last night that you can hear about in my future memoirs.

In short, I'm glad November is over. I need to restart. Things have been pretty awful, especially these last few days. Now my parents know and they're worried and so I'm worrying about that and objectively it's all really funny. (Like some of the things that happened last night.)

I would like things to get better. I would like to patch things up with most of the "friend group." I would like to do better at math. I would like to play music more. I would like to see Russell and Derek and Megan more. I would like to pull through this semester. I would like to hangout with Tara and Elena. I would like to have long talks with Lloyd. I would like to stay in touch with my friends from home more. I would like to continue to figure out my life. I would like to get into the honors program here.

And so I think I will try and do these things.

Thanks for sticking around with me throughout this month. It's been messy but I'm glad I have this record of it. As a thank you and an early holiday present, have this.

I'll see you soon.

To quote William S. Burroughs, November, "You always were a headache and you always were a bore."