look each other in the eye and say, "hello".

I've been away from home for a little over a week. When I was younger, getting away from home was a treat. My first experience of venturing out on my own was when I was eight years old and my parents sent me, along with my friends, to sleepaway camp. I was one of the few children who didn't cry, yearning to go home. Instead, I cried when I had to go home. For the longest time, I hated being home, especially in the summer.

This is the first summer where, once on vacation, I realized how much I loved home. I love my family, and I definitely feel like this vacation was needed, however despite the sprawling beaches, the beautiful surf and sun and the shopping, I just wanted to be home.

In Lexington I've created a family that's made college my home away from home. In these last few months I've formed such strong relationships with people, bonds that I hope will never be broken. To be away from the people that have seen me at my best and worst, who I talk to, share my anecdotes with, hugs and frowns...I was homesick. I still am homesick.

I've spent three hours in Las Vegas, waiting on a delayed flight. I've had those three hours to ruminate on how much the people and the city of Lexington mean to me. Sure, I might be sporting a USC hoodie...and sure, I may never really love UK, but I've made the best of the situation. I move into an apartment this Sunday with my three best girlfriends, and I can't wait. I'm seeing TV on the Radio with Brad on Thursday, and spending tomorrow evening with Ross. It's only been a little over a week, but I'm missing that kid like crazy.

The airport is full with people anxious to get home. As much as I hate flying, I can't wait to get on that plane that will take me home.

buy me a shiny new machine that runs on lies and gasoline

i feel like i can write pretty candidly about my life and going ons here. i know of only one steady reader and know that what i say on here is what i would already tell him. i feel like this blog was my way of communicating what was going on in my life while he was on his adventure. i'm going to keep this going, though, and hopefully i'll get something out of it. i've been meaning to improve my writing, and seriously, is there any better opportunity to do this than a blog? that's a rhetorical question.

one of the things i've come to realize after being away at college, moving out and missing summers with high school friends is that people change. or maybe, people mature.

my high school life was horrible. i didn't have an established group of friends, jumped from person to person, and never really knew who i was. apparently, a lot of people saw me as this confidant person who knew where she was going, was true to herself. i've been told that people actually looked up to me in high school; wanted to be more like me. they had a pretty shitty way of showing it though.

i was that girl who wasn't invited to things, who heard about parties and gatherings after the fact. popular enough to know those people, but still not cool enough to see them on the weekends.

then something changed. i discovered music, and i truly believe that if it wasn't for "the district sleeps alone tonight" by the postal service, i'd be a different person right now. with music, i knew who i was. i didn't need others to make me happy, because in music i found myself. sappy, i know.

since then, i've always felt confidant. i didn't let the petty happenings and drama of high school get to me. i arrived at UK a different person, set on making new friends. not even a month into the school year, i felt accepted by a group of incredible, diverse people and had people from high school wanting to hang out with me. suddenly, i was cool. i haven't felt insecure in a long time, i said goodbye to my former scrawny, mousy self a long time ago.

tonight, i felt transported back to sophomore year. before indie music, before friends.

i kid you not, i was a joke tonight. i was the brunt of inside jokes, side laughs and shifty eyes. i couldn't believe what was going on around me. someone who i had confided so much in, who i thought was my friend, had seemingly turned on me, broke my confidence and bitch slapped me in the face with it. ouch.

i had to literally sit through an hour and a half of torture. i had to watch her charm him, watch him teased and doted on by the other girls, and realize that i was being ignored.

all i wanted was to spend one evening with him. it started out so well.

anyways, i can't wait to get to california. there's nothing i want to see more than the beaches of newport, the boardwalk, and those beautiful california sunsets.

summer here, kids

On the way back from a wedding, Sean asked me what my favorite event or most exciting assignment has been this summer. I honestly didn't know what to tell him. I haven't been or seen anything incredibly exciting, and I can't place my finger on any one assignment that left me feeling awe-inspired or glad that I was there.

I'm not going to lie, though. I've seen a lot of interesting places, met a lot of diverse and unique people and have driven nearly 1000 miles. But overall, with the concentration of this summer (or at least, coming into it) being photojournalism, it feels as thought I haven't really made any advances forward. I've remained pretty consistent, getting the same pictures, just in different situations. Maybe I'm wasting the opportunities that are out there (ie: I've only been on one assignment with my "buddy", David Stephenson) or maybe I'm not that great a photographer. Either way, going over my pictures, despite the multiple centerpieces I've had, I still don't feel like I've taken any one great picture.

But to prove that I haven't been loafing around all the much, here's a few pictures from this summer thus far...









Also, to prove that I actually take pictures of other things and have friends, here's a photo from last Saturday:

I associate people with things. A Heartbreaking Work of Staggering Genius reminds me of my best guy friend from high school, John. John was my closest friend, despite the fact that we never saw each other. We spoke for hours at a time on the computer and on the phone. Mostly on the computer. We made half-hearted attempts to hang out. I never knew how smart he was until he told me his senior year schedule. I knew he was ambitious, but I didn't know he was a genius. We bitched and complained about how much we hated high school, about how much we wanted to get out of Louisville and head to bigger places. He was debating schools like Harvard, Yale and Dartmouth. I desperately wanted to attend Northwestern. In the end he enrolled at U of L since they're practically paying him to go there, and I ended up at UK. We don't talk as much anymore, but when I was going through my books today, I thought of him.

When I listen to the Weakerthans, I think of the two people I'm pretty sure I love the most. Teresa was probably the closest thing I had to a best friend at Assumption. She was always there, always smiling, and always up to having a good time. She let me stay at her house when I was too scared to drive home, let me hang out on her kitchen floor, and went on adventures with me. She was smart, funny, religious, kind, but never too serious. I adored her family and had a crush on her brother. She introduced me to the Weakerthans, the only band I can listen to on repeat and not get sick of. I don't see much of her anymore since she goes to Notre Dame, but when I do see her, it's as though nothing has changed. We pick up where we left off, a constant conversation that's put on pause as she endures the bitter cold of South Bend, Indiana and I stay here, in Kentucky.

Then there's Brad. The one person I always feel comfortable talking to. The person I'm missing the most right now. Despite everything that happened last year, I consider him one of my closest friends. I burned him a Weakerthans cd, knowing that he'd love it. It took him awhile to actually listen to it, but to have him tell me that he loved it? Moments like that--introducing people to music and having them discover a new favorite band--make my heart swell. I love that music does that to me.

I'm listening to the Weakerthans right now. I want to tell them both that, while I know they might roll their eyes at this, I'm so glad that they exist.

I think I might be getting sick. I've tried my damnedest to stay healthy, and I'm not going to lie, I've done one hell of a job. I can't even remember the last time I was sick.

I keep getting these shooting, sharp pains in my right inner-ear and the same sharp, shooting pain in my head. It's been going on for a couple of days and I'm thinking that if it still bothers me tomorrow I should go to the doctor.

If there's one thing I hate more than...actually, there's nothing I hate more than the doctor. Maybe the dentist, to my friend's dismay. But the doctor takes the cake.

I'm thinking it might be sinuses, but I'm not sure. Either way, I'm kind of in pain.

So it's been a few days since the last time this blog has seen some fresh words and music. The week's been pretty slow, and I've been busy working and taking pictures. I took one of my favorite pictures on Saturday, and while it didn't run in the paper, I was happy with the overall experience of attending the Kentucky Refugee Picnic. It's amazing, the stories these people told. Many of the refugees fled from the war in the Congo, while others were from Sierra Leone, Togo, Central Africa Republic and Liberia. As I sat with the reporter, hearing stories about a man being held captive in a hole for a month, or a family's struggle to leave Tanzania, I realized that it's moments like this that emphasize why I'm going into journalism. Or at least, why I'm studying it. Even if I don't become a photojournalist, I know that I want to document. I want to tell stories. I want to change people for the better through pictures, words and film.

That was heavy.

The coffee shop job isn't too bad, but the 7-12am kills me. I'm too tired after I get back to do anything, and I can't see anyone that night because I have to wake up so early. No more complaining though, because it's money and if I need anything right now, it's some green green cash.

Have you ever met a person and you two seemed to fit together perfectly? From the most broad of interests, such a movies, to the most minute details of life, such as a love for Blue Bell Ice Cream or the fascination of movie trailers? Because I've met someone, someone I'm finally excited about seeing, who gives me that feeling of pure joy when I see him or talk to him or just share dessert with him. And I'm so new at this, so naive as to how I go about this awkward dance of invites and chatting and shared smiles and brief, tingling touches. But this is what he reminds me of: the missing piece of the puzzle, the person who understands this passion for film that no one else I know can comprehend. The person who enjoys coming over to help cook and doesn't mind doing the dishes, who takes life as it comes, is motivated, smart and gives me that feeling I haven't felt about someone in a long time.

And what I've come to realize, what my friend pointed out from his experience, is that what's happening seems to be incredibly organic. It didn't start out as a physical attraction, a drunken hook-up or anything that can cause a relationship to be doomed from the beginning. This may not even be a possible relationship, but what I've come to find is that what's happening is completely the way an attraction to someone, the beginning of something should happen.

Slowly, naturally. It went from hardly knowing him to happenstance chats to a full out two hour talk over lunch and discovering how much there was in common. It was in these moments, these hard times I was having with another person, that I saw his smile. And maybe that's what has won me over.

The entire house is rooting for this kid, and secretly deep down I hope that I don't ruin this.

I was going to post music, but I've come to find that I'm more tired than I anticipated. This day has worn me out, and at the end of it, I feel exhausted and confused. I left my roommates at the moment I received a text to hang out. And while in the end, this night it turned out to be decent, I can't help but feel like I caved in.

I just finished working my third week at the coffee cart in the hospital. So far, so good. It isn't the best job, but the hours are extremely flexible and I make decent tips. I've managed to hurt my self a lot, though, such as various burns on my fingers, some wicked bruises and sore muscles from the damn espresso machine. However, a conversation with a man walking by describes my experience so far at the cart.

I'm sitting in my chair, reading Maggie Cassidy and watching for customers. It's been slow for about an hour, with me selling mainly regular coffees. Enter older gentleman, in mid to late 50s, bent over, walking, with his hand supporting his lower back. Man looks over at me and smiles.

"How're you today?" he asks me.

"I'm alright," I respond, trying to cover the sleepiness in my voice with a smile. "How're you today?"

"Terrible," he responds. Man hobbles away to outpatient surgery.

My smile is wiped off my face and I let out a small, "oh" under my breath, not knowing the proper response.

Yeah, I kid you not. That happened. The place is depressing and makes me dread getting old. I want to look forward to old age. I don't want to end up in a hospital, in pain, young faces pitying me as I'm wheeled away to my doom.

Blah.

I'm loving Maggie Cassidy by Jack Kerouac. I've decided if I have a little girl, she's going to be named Margaret Cassidy.

I need to take more pictures.

all this time lingers undefined

Despite the fact that I'm not happy with the pictures I've been taking, I've somehow managed to be in the newspaper a lot. Today, I had a picture on the front page. Seriously.

I'm the type of person who tends to worry about things and over analyze situations to death. I worry about whether or not we'll all still be friends by the time Austin City Limits rolls around and we have to drive 16 hours to see what might be the best and greatest concerts of our young lives.

I worry about when you turn 21, and if we'll ever spend time together like we do now. The age discrepancy will be painfully obvious when you're 21 and all your friends are 21 and I'm still 19 and will always be a year and a half younger than you. Will you still come over for a beer and a movie on a Friday night? And on your birthday, I won't be able to share any moments with you because you'll be with her, in Louisville. It's this thought alone that brings me down and makes my stomach clench out of nervousness.

This is a horrible comparison, but it's like Joey and Dawson. They weren't meant to be, but despite Dawson's lust for the beautiful, mysterious next door neighbor, Jen, Joey still pinned for Dawson. But all Dawson ever saw Joey as was a friend, the girl he's always known as his friend.

Of course, in the end Dawson ends up wanting Joey, but we all know Joey and Pacey were MEANT TO BE. So I guess what I'm saying is that I know it's futile, and that these intense feelings will go away eventually...but being the friend who is tossed aside and ignored for the beautiful girl sucks. It's selfish to want to keep you for myself. But that doesn't take away that dread of your 21st birthday.

Seriously though, that's the thought that's been eating away at me. I'm so dramatic sometimes, it makes me want to gag.

My mother spent the entire day at the hospital with my dying great-grandfather, which she didn't even have to do because he's on my dad's side and we hardly know him. My mom is amazing. And I felt horrible when she was telling me about this and I was shopping for clothes at J. Crew.

I'm listening to the Weakerthans right now. A lot of the songs on here remind me of you.

When I look at the pictures I've taken in the past few weeks, I really begin to wonder if I'm cut out for this. I feel like instead of improving, I'm progressively getting worse and worse. My pictures lack variety, they lack emotion. And I know what they need, I know what I need to improve on, yet nothing is happening. I'm afraid maybe I'm losing my focus, which is pathetic, since I've only been doing this for two years.

I'm frustrated, and today's assignment just nailed it on the head that I'm not only letting the newspaper down, but I'm letting myself down too.

I feel overworked and stressed. I needed a paying job to be able to stay in Lexington for the summer, and now I'm feeling the stress from my other job. It makes me not look forward to the two days I work at the paper, because that's two more days that I have to work.

And I'm upset that I'm not enjoying this. That I'm not learning and spending time with my photo coach because of this stupid job. I'm not getting out of this what I should be, and I think the paper knows that. I'm waiting for the email or phone call that asks me to come in, that we "need to have a talk."

I'm shooting something tomorrow morning, and I'm determined to look at it differently. To do better, to deliver and to have that special something that's been missing in my photos for the past few months.

ETA:
I have some pretty incredible friends. I need to write a thank you note to a family in Middlesboro. And, I tacked a message to to your cork board. You won't get it until July, but the message should ring true then as it does now.

Last night I ventured to Louisville with some of my Lexington "family" to see The National with Talkdemonic and Shapes 'n Sizes. While I was only able to take pictures of Talkdemonic, the entire show was stunning. I wish I could have captured it on camera, but for the first time in...ever, I was denied access to take pictures. I'm so used to being press that when I'm actually just a person with a really expensive camera, I'm sort of taken aback. I guess it was a nice reality check. I was there for my own personal enjoyment, not press. Despite this, I think that I was able to get in some decent pictures from Talkdemonic. I've never used my 30D at a show before, so actually metering and trying to get the light just right was difficult. My pictures came out weird, but I like them.

I bumped up my ISO to 3200. I don't think I've ever done that before.

Overall, it was a great show. The National pretty much blew me away. I don't know a lot of their music, but I knew that it would be a good show. What was great was that the crowd was absolutely smitten with the band, and you could tell that the band members were having a great time playing.

It was defiintely worth the drive to Louisville and the quiet car ride back home. As much as I hated waking up after five hours of sleep, last night was worth it.

So I guess I should retract that last post. I didn't think I had any readers, but I guess one is worth keeping this thing going.

There's not a whole lot that's been going on with me. I work six days a week, and it's tiring and sometimes I'm not up to seeing people; I cloister myself up in my room and watch reruns of Friends or pop in some good old Felicity.

Haven't had too many adventures. I'm the type of person who hangs out with the same people every night, and with this work schedule, staying in and watching Pete & Pete with my roommate and one of my closest pals is pure bliss.

I've been missing my California buds like crazy. So much so that I don't even think one of the knows the extent of how much I miss him. It's just odd, going from seeing the same people every day for almost a year to not talking for days at a time.

The radio show's been going well. I don't have that many listeners and hey, it's cool. I'm on from three to six am, so I don't know what I was expecting. Some weeks I have tons of callers, most of them are looking for people to talk to. And I guess we're both in the same situation. By the time 4:30am rolls around, I'm desperate for some form of communication. Because what it comes down to is me talking to this imaginary void, trying to engage whoever is listening. It's gratifying to have someone call in and say they really enjoyed a track or they like what I'm playing. But to go a whole night without a phone call? It's crazy.

Plus, I hit that hour where no one is on Facebook. Have you ever seen "No Friends Online" on your "Currently Online"? Because it happens. Usually around 5 a.m.

So, here comes the music:

Sonny Jim::Can't Stop Moving
I can't get enough of this. It makes me want to get on my feet and dance.
M.I.A.::Hit That
This just oozes hip-hop. MIA does things to me that no other female hip-hop artist could.
The Frames::Falling Slowly
This is from a new release, "Once". It looks like a great movie, and the epic chorus with the combination of gradual building of string instrumental gets me every time.
Phat Kat::Cold Steel F/Elzhi
This might just ooze even more hip-hop than MIA. The beats are incredible and the rhymes are just downright impressive. If I could play this on the radio, I would.
Seabear::I Sing I Swim
God, I listened to Seabear 21 times last week and 19 times this week. Seabear is mellow in the way that you need. It's the right amount of smooth, lush indie music and folk. Iceland at it's best.
Nada Surf::Your Legs Grow
I can't believe I just discovered this song. I'd been listening to Nada Surf for awhile but my friend bought me "Your Weight is a Gift" last week and since then, I can't stop listening. You'll love this if you love songs that build up and leave you feeling cleansed.

That's a lot of music. I've been getting into some different genres, expanding my musical horizons. I've said this before, but what's great about working for WRFL is that I'm forced to look into new music and seek things out. I get online and see what's up on the different music blogs. You Aint No Picasso keeps me up to date on my sugar-coated, lush indie-pop/rock. Other sites like So Much Silence and Gorilla v.s. Bear help me out with my underground hip-hop and mahsups. And Music For Robots keeps me on top of the house/electronica scene.

Anyways, that's basically it from my what, week hiatus?

I dunno. There's tons of other things going. Things I'm trying to figure out and sort. I'm interested in seeing where the next few weeks take me. I've been weirded out, confused, and felt head-over-heels all in the past week and a half. What's crazy about summer is that everything feels so much bigger. I said this about college, but living on your own and completely making your own decisions and spending nights out with friends, just drinking and watching television. It's different. And when I go home, I feel out of place. Like this almost adult that doesn't fit in with the family. I'm not a kid, but I'm not a grown-up.

Shew.

Just listen to the music. If you do anything and skim this post, at the least, give the music a chance.

I wonder if anything more will come out of this besides bitching about my life?

I would talk about my internship and how I met these incredible nuns that could change your life, but I'll save that for next time. There's too many words as it is right now .

Well, this was fun.

Short lived, but fun.

The End.

So last night on the radio I played this song, "Everything's Alright" by Kimya Dawson featuring Danielle Ferguson. Ferguson is a small child singing along to a song about one-night stands and that lonely feeling you have inside when you "spoon a guy" and pretend that you can still "be his friend". Not only did I receive a few phone calls about how much people loved it, but the guys that called were shocked that this happens to girls. That girls who live alone bring guys home, and even though he doesn't love her, he keeps her company.

Anyways, this song reminds me of, in a weird way, Billy Joel's "We Didn't Start the Fire". Someone in radio land said that it reminded them of R.E.M.'s "End of the World". I kind of agree with them. With the fast paced listing of pop-culture figures and day-to-day tasks and objects, I can hear the connection.

Everything's Alright w/Danielle Ferguson::Kimya Dawson

I worked around 20 hours in two days and didn't get paid a dime for it.

I have two job interviews this week. The prospect of doing some form of work and getting compensation is glorious. Never before I have I been so grateful for my horrible high school job. I never knew how good I had it until now. Not only was I bringing in over $200 a week (and I know, it's not a lot, but it's more than nothing!) and I was making tips. Lots of tips. I was damn good at that job.

I have such a boring life. I've been called out on how much television I watch, and I know. It's excessive. But man, that Roseanne! What a riot! And seriously, what she did for television is incredible. It's true: you can have a loud-mouthed, big woman on television and people will watch. It's a genre of television. Just like the whole "fat man, skinny wife" genre. This is what I learned on spring break in Evanston.

I think I'm going to the Austin City Limits festival. As soon as those first two paychecks come in, I'm purchasing my ticket. I can't believe that I won't be able to take my camera, though. I mean, I'll bring it, but I can't take it inside the festival. Ridiculous.

My mother told me to stop over-analyzing everything in life. I tend to do that a lot, and I wish I could stop, but hey. That's me. I like the look over every minuscule thing that goes on and ruin moments and just...complicate things.

My posts never have any solid ideas. My thought process is jumbled up, and I bounce around from one idea to another.

However, a continuous theme would be unemployment. And Felicity-esque drama/situations. I think if my life were a television show, it'd be somewhat interesting. Except for the hours when I loaf around at home, waiting for my friends to either get off work or get out of class. My life during the week basically revolves around their schedule and me riding my bike to places I can apply for jobs.

I like bicycling.

During my senior year spring break, I ate a turkey, ham and cheese sandwich every day because not only were they delicious, but I liked them. And I knew that at any time, if I wanted something else, I could go out and get something else.

I've eaten a turkey, ham and cheese everyday for the past week and a half. If I wanted, I could eat something else, but then I'd feel guilty about spending what little money I have.

For some reason, I'm having the most difficult time getting a job. It's mind-boggling and frustrating and ridiculous. I have experience, I'm friendly and I wasn't too desperate. I mean, I'm desperate now, but at the time of applying for jobs I wasn't.

While I'm having a great time hanging out with some people that I never really had the chance to spend time with during the school year, not being able to pay for things sucks.

And seriously, if one loafs too much, one gets sick of loafing.

I never want to get sick of loafing.

Goodness gracious, I'm going to miss you.

I love that Sex and the City comes on at such random hours on syndication. Syndication can be the source of so much happiness for me. It allows me to believe, even if only for a second that, that show is still on air.

I seriously am in dire need of a paying job. If anyone in Lexington is aware of a place that's hiring, please leave me a comment. Keep this in mind, though: I'm not yet 20, so I can't serve alcohol.

Tomorrow I'm going to sleep and read. My days are long and boring, hence the need for a job. The internship is going swell, but 16 hours a week isn't enough to keep me occupied. That's only two days, guys.

When I have some money saved up, I'm going to buy a Bishop Allen cd. I don't know why I don't have any of their music.

Seeing !!! on Friday with a close high school friend. It's going to be great.

This was such a disjointed and emotionally distanced post. Next time I'll write something more eloquent and enjoyable to read.

As comfortable as the floor is, I don't know why you wouldn't just sit on the bed. There was plenty of room, and you wouldn't have been the first person to claim that space of the bed as yours. Yours to watch television with a group a friends.

My house was crowded with people yesterday evening. As a small gathering with friends turned into a huge pasta party, I become frustrated, annoyed. I just wanted to watch the Office, and now, thinking back, I'm not even sure what happened during certain parts of the episode. I'll have to catch it online.

Is this even my house? People are calling it "my house" and "my bed" and "my room", but really it's not. This isn't my bed I'm sitting on, and this isn't my permanent room. I'm only a visitor here, paying rent for two months. But I'm glad that people feel comfortable here, that they feel comfortable around me. That they can just hop on the California King Size and nap on it while I'm watching television. Somewhere over the course of the year I made friends, and close friends at that.

And even now, I'm working on friendships and building relationships; deciphering what's just a friend and what could possibly be more.

Someone asked me once how I know if someone I like or someone that I randomly meet at a party or someone I've known for a long time...how do I know if they're it. They're the one I want to pursue, the person I'm interested in.

I don't know. I had a conclusive answer earlier today, but now I'm not sure. So far I've been wrong.

Yesterday a friend invited me to see Animal Collective at the Southgate House in Cincinnati. Digression, but every time I write Cincinnati, I never know if I'm spelling it correctly. Anyways, it was pretty spur of the moment for me, seeing as how I was on my way to Richmond, Ky to work on photo story that I've been putting time, sweat, my emotional health and gas money into since September.

I'm glad I went. What an incredible show. Despite the mass of sweaty bodies next to me, getting my foot stepped on, having a drink spilled on my shoe and losing my two friends from the people who somehow got in between us, the show blew my mind away. I had always wondered what seeing Animal Collective live would be like, and it was beyond what my wildest imagination could have conceived.

From the crowds singing along and jumping and putting their own mark on the song, to just having a grand time dancing along, Animal Collective was able to take the audience on this wild ride with them. Even when they lost power for a few minutes, the band got back on their feet and continued their electrofantabulastic show.

So for everyone who is over 21 and in Lexington, I highly recommend going out to the Dame tonight to see them perform. You won't regret the $15 the show cost. For a mere $15 you'll be taken to a whole new place, where people raise their fists together and sing about who could win a rabbit.

Just watched last night's The Office. Pam's confession to Jim had me thinking about everything in my life. And about television. Because guys, this is good fiction. This is good television. When you feel for the characters and get involved and you hope with everything inside of you that things work out for them because you feel for them. You feel for them because you see bits of yourself in them. And if there was ever a character that better represented me besides Felicity, it's Pam.

Pam had me thinking of her relationship with Jim, and the friendship that was there before things were weird.

There was time when I hated, for no reason that I could pinpoint, my best friend. I couldn't stand him, his presence enraged me. It got to the point where I didn't want to speak to him. I don't know what happened, because I think at one point he hated me, too. And it was horrible. Because if I pushed aside all that anger I had pent up, deep down I was missing him. I was missing the fun times we had together and the person I was getting to know.

It's only in the last few months that things have somehow changed and we became actual, real friends. He's the person I confide in, who I feel comfortable around even when I look horrible. Who helped me move out and asked nothing in return.

And for some reason, at this very moment, I'm missing him terribly.

I'm only a week and a half into summer, a week and a half into not seeing him on a daily basis. This summer in Lexington is going to be incredible, but I don't know how I'm going to get by without seeing my bestie.

I'm so pumped and oh so nervous about finally going on air. Like, it's this incredibly complex mixture of emotions; I hate public speaking and here I am, putting myself on the radio. But at the same time, I love sharing music, and playing tunes that I love for other people is so exhilarating. Sure, it's at the shittiest time ever, but there'll have to be someone listening.

What's great about the 3-6am time slot is I can basically play whatever. I can experiment with a few sounds, and check out some genres that I'm not too familiar with. It'll be a great ride, with me figuring out what the hell I'm doing while others listen.

I've realized that I've been pretty deprived lately when it comes to concerts. I haven't been to a show in awhile, or really, a non-UK show. Because Margot & the Nuclear So and So's was really fantastic, and that was free.

But the last big show was Death Cab, and I'm really wanting to see something soon. I'm thinking of buying tickets for the CoCoRosie show here in Louisville; anyone want to come with?

I'm taking my sister to a funeral tomorrow. I don't think I'll ever comprehend death.

I've met someone that I really would like to get to know more. If only I wasn't so awkward when it comes to that initial move in communication. Hopefully I wasn't imagining things last week, when I felt a connection. Who knows.

Man, I can't wait to play some Godspeed You Black Emperor next week.