Cesca has been given the new nickname for which she has been bugging me for so long. She is now Kabu. She wants it to have a reason. I think perhaps she would not like the reason that there is, so I will come up with a new one. I'm crafty like that. American History will yet be the death of me but at least I finished this stupid paper for Julian. I'm debating never doing anything ever again. Somehow that doesn't seem like a very viable option, though, so I'll do what must be done and wait for summer. Spring trip is going to be great. A backpacking trip without the up-up-up-up-oh-help-I-can't-breathe problem I usually have. Lila is on my trip. I don't know if this is a good thing or a bad thing. I rather suspect that like most things in life, it shall be what I make of it. I'm just not sure what I want to make of it. There's a still-tender scar on my psyche from our disrupted friendship. I cared about her a lot. My sense of self-preservation says it would be wise not do so again, because in all likelyhood I would only get hurt again, and that is to be avoided. But things will be what we make of them. I will make a good trip of this, and I will come to an understanding of the desert, and she can just be. I don't have to make decisions one way or another. Here's to just letting go. Control freak that I am, that's more of an achievement than you'd think.
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