went up to heather's for a night with fokion, ella, and ammanuel. we had swimming and 3 hours of Apples to Apples and playground hijinx and like 4 bags of microwave popcorn and a generally lovely time. came back the next day, went to fokion's friends' "tittyfucking 4th of july party" whcih turned out to mostly consist of gay dudes and jello. they seriously made like 5 different flavors of jello. then i gave amanual a ride, and he advised me to go back to the party because there are 3 straight girls there and i'm the only straight guy (he is giving me slut lessons)(seriously), but i decided instead to go to libertyfest, and i stand by my decision because libertyfest ruled. it's an annual providence block party and they had bands and food and booze (they were out of food and booze when i arrived, but that's okay) and a bunch of my friends were there dancing in the rain and there was a marching band and 2 girls did fire dancing, which i want to learn now because it was probably the sexiest thing ever.
and there is another block party this friday, i hear tell?
went with kate to a cookout at her friend's place. it was fun! free food (which i appreciate very much now that our food co-op is temporarily defunct) and cool people.
then i went home for the weekend, to celebrate my brother's birthday by mostly hanging out with my parents. we went to dinner with renny tho, at this place everyone loved but me. i didn't see any of my manch friends because they are all losers, but my mom watched some ridiculous zombie movie and i read jurassic park for i estimate the 9th time in my life, so it's okay. then i got a speeding ticket whcih i am going to fight. and i went to see my grandma, who OMG THE HUGEST MOSQUITO I HAVE EVER SEEN JUST LANDED ON ME. I SLAPPED IT AND IT LIKE GLARED AT ME AND FLEW OFF. as i was saying, my grandma thought i was there to kill her and steal her bracelet (well first she thought i had killed her, but i pointed out she's not actually dead). then she said i killed my mom. and apparently i am shmata, which is yiddish for rags. i don't know if this is my name, or a description. needless to say, she was not very happy with being visited by a rag who wants to kill her, so i wasn't there long. it was pretty sad actually.
i am reading the man who mistook his wife for a hat by oliver sacks. it's pretty fascinating, but specifically it has me thinking about mental perceptions of time. specifically, emotional time and depression. when i am happy, it is for relatively immediate reasons. i'm happy because of something someone said the other day, or because i am currently with friends, or because i have rad plans for this weekend. but i don't get happy that i have a fairly great life, that people care about me, that i have a stable loving family. i don't get happy because of something good that happened 3 years ago, or something that might conceivably happen in a month (hopeful, yes. happy, no). my reasons for happiness are also fairly specific and stable. if i am happy, it is for a reason or reasons, but they stay constant. my mind won't wander to other swell things in my life. i won't be happy about a sandwich i'm eating and then think of what a good friend lyzi is, and feel even better. because that isn't what's on my mind, the sandwich is. a good sandwich doesn't make the rest of my day better, or make trigonometry seem more fun. and i am aware of it as being a discrete time: i am happy now, i wasn't yesterday, i might not be this evening. this is how most of my emotions (and general thoughts, i suppose) work, even sadness. but not depression.
when i am depressed, the reasons are vague and kind of irrelevent. even if some particular things triggers it (which isn't always the case to begin with; sometimes i just feel shitty), it will wander. i can be upset about something and then a minute later i am thinking about a book i lost in high school or how i accidentally poked my cat in the eye when i was in like 4th grade and have always felt guilty about it, or not about anything particular at all except how i am sad and how it blows. and it makes other things also blow/blow more, when they wouldn't have otherwise. and i expect it to last and last and last, it doesn't feel like just a moment's emotion so much as a personality trait (it isn't, of course, since it comes and goes and i am aware of this. but it feels like it nevertheless). in that way, it is kind of like dreaming. 'am i a happy person who gets sad or a sad person who gets happy?' (is the glass half full?) is similar to 'am i a man who dreams he is a butterfly or a butterfly that dreams it is a man?'. my solution to that was always that while i'm awake, i remember my dreams, many different dreams, and my life before/between them. while i am dreaming, i don't remember my waking life or other dreams, except as they intersect with this one. (not that this proves anything, per se, but it is suggestive, i think.) that is basically how depression feels for me.
the only feeling i can compare this to, timewise, is liking someone. most people i care about, they are concrete pieces of my life. sometimes i will randomly think of someone, be reminded of them, feel nostalgic for them, but it isn't a big deal mostly. i know they exist and that's wonderful, but they're off doing their thing and i'm here doing my thing and okay. but if i am romantically interested in someone, they color everything and they're always on my mind, and it feels like they always will be.
on a totally-unrelated-except-that-it-was-als
 as a sidenote, i wonder if lucid dreams are actually becoming aware of your dream while you're dreaming, or merely dreaming that you do so. after all, i am conscious and willful in most of my dreams, the difference is context -- what is happening around me and the past that i remember for myself in the dream.
blah blah i'm a pretensious intellectual
EDIT: uhhhhh i think there's something alive in my trash. no joke. it just shifted and made a burrowing noise. i'm afraid to investigate too closely.
yeah there's another noise. definitely something in there. wtf?