Somewhere, someone out there is for me...

I am trying to work on another academic paper, but feel that I need some sort of "release" before I can actually get typing this next essay.

It has been some busy past couple of weeks. This week involved a music theory exam on Wednesday, a take-home quiz that was due today, and two essays due tomorrow. With the normal schedule and also seeing Fucked Up down in Denver last night, I have not had much of a time to chill out.

At the very least, the health has improved significantly. I may have been wrong with the whole acid reflux deal. I am unsure, though. All I can ever make out of these past weeks is that it felt like the sickest I had been in a long, long time. Not even like physically-unable to do anything sick, but just a persistent feeling in the back of my throat. My next guess now is there was a viral infection of the throat that just hung around forever, and my antibodies are finally now laying waste to the infection. It is amazing how your body can heal itself if you treat it right.

Today was a nice day, even though I got home at 2 last night, did not get to bed until 330, and then wake up at 930. I finished my take-home quiz on campus, got some tea and a chocolate croissant, had a surprising chat with Alyssa and then later with my friend Alex, and then I got ready for my afternoon show with 1190. Cookie and Taylor also came down and hung out with me for the entire time, all three hours, which was really nice. Somehow, everything "clicked" with today's show. I enjoyed every track that I played, all my breaks were really coherent, informative, and not too long. I had a discussion with this listener by the name of Dennis (who actually came downstairs and met me sometime later) about the nature of rock in America, and how more US bands have a more "contingent" flow with an album as a whole, not just by singling out different tracks. I guess. It was a pretty deep discussion. Once my show was done, us three and Allen and his friend Brian(?) went to the Sink for a delicious happy hour. A pint of Fat Tire marked the first legitimate beer I have had for myself in what seems like a long, long time. At least three weeks, I would suppose. Jazz rehearsal was afterwards, which ended pretty late. It was starting to snow again as I biked home, and now I am here, wiped, and probably ready for bed soon.

The title of today's entry signifies my hope in my partner someday. I am unsure how love will ever strike me. However, it feels good to know that, for this time in my life, I am still trying to make myself better, and it seems that my time with my family has strengthened as well. Phone calls, text messages, emails...things are staying together pretty well.

Anyways, it is bedtime. Not too exciting of an entry, I guess. But hey! Like said, I am getting better. Slowly and slowly, every day.

-c