And so it goes.

Normally I wouldn't dare quote Vonnegut, so I added the "And."

But so it goes, Friends. I leave New York today. You all know I'm sad. You all know I'm nervous. I'll spare you.

This summer I earned a young man's affections in Provo. I'm seeing him tonight. My outlook on love and relationships is objective these days: if it works, fine--if it doesn't, it wasn't meant to be. Some of the stupidest mistakes I've ever made have been wasting my time with guys who I knew either a) weren't good enough for me, or b) just weren't compatible with me. Those days are over. I am almost 22, for crying out loud!! My marrying days are almost over!!

I had an interesting dream the other night. It's rare I remember a dream in the first place, but even rarer I remember a dream with this much symbolism.

So you see, I was sitting by a window. I think it may have been in my bedroom in Provo, but I never saw the whole room. But this bug--this big blue and black bug--kept flying in the window. It had a long metal skewer-like beak coming out of its mouth. It kept flying toward me, and after a few good looks I realized it was not a big blue and black bug, but a big blue and black hummingbird. I was holding my left hand out, palm facing down, and inexplicably, the hummingbird kept poking its long, syringe-like beak into my hand. It hurt! I would grab the hummingbird each time it did this, removing its beak from my tender skin with a quick swoop and thrusting the bird out the open window. But the bird always came back, and each time it came back, it poked my hand in a new place, and each time I thrust it out the window, it came back. After about seven rounds of this, the bird finally disappeared. I'm not sure where to. I thought it was over, until I stared at my delicate hand. Simultaneously, each hole the hummingbird had made began streaming blood--the reddest, silkiest, most intoxicating blood you've ever seen.

Having such a weird dream, I turned right to a dream dictionary to diagnose my crazy mind. Apparently, dreaming about your hands represents your relationships and how you connect with the world. Specifically, the left hand symbolizes a person's graciousness and feminine, receptive qualities. Injured hands denote an attack on your ego. Blood on your hands signifies guilt. This all makes sense because a) I am a woman, and b) a friend called me on something the other night, saying they were a little disappointed, and that bruised my ego, and c) I feel guilty pretty much all the time, mostly for stupid little things, but it's still a valid emotion.

The hummingbird suggests that small ideas or concepts may possess great potential or power. It also indicates flighty thoughts and frivolous ideas (aren't those two completely contradictory?) Alternatively, it may be a metaphor for one's inability to commit to a relationship. (These definitions all fit me pretty well). Though something I'd like to pursue in the future, the idea of marriage at my young age really bothers me. I am much too independent. I mentioned the hummingbird was blue and black; these colors happen to be the color of a sweater I bought here in New York, so I'm leaving that one to coincidence.

Windows signify bright hopes, vast possibilities and insight--all accurate, considering my recent job offers.

Anyway I have an hour before I need to leave for the airport, so I guess I'll see ya.