I am my self outside my self,looking inward for clarity and feeling nasiated with the business of it all. How can one be expected to handle joy and disappointment simultaneiously? Triumph and failure, love and displeasure? The truth is that I've been avoiding you, Journal. I've written the editorial comments with the vague sense of reporting, disclosing facts and refraiming from heart. I don't know what I feel because lately I've been feeling to much. Perhaps I am just overwhelmed. I find myself saying too much to the wrong people. I turn around and realize someone around me has changed. I understand I cannot trust before proper judgement. I don't like to judge immediately, but it seems this may be something I must learn to do. Or else adopt in other ways because the messages I'm receiving are somehow now re-writing themselves. It's half past midnight now. The Bear slumbers on and my mind continues on. My fiction (or was it my playwring?) professor mentioned this; it's the time when all your body, your eyes, and your emotions just want to shut-down and retire and then, there goes the mind...skating double-axels across the brain and shooting fire-work visions over the eyes, sometimes developing enough momentum to move the body. Anything but rest, you know. I had an audition this morning. It was at the radio station for Press Pass, a news update program that airs Mon-Thurs at 4, I believe. I got a position, too. I didn't expect I would. But I got it. I'll be on the air Mon and Wed, reading news stories collected throughout the day. The experience is good; it's another nice thing to add to my academic resume. Unfortunately, when I returned to the station many hours later for DJ training, I was asked to come back another night because it appeared that I hadn't studied the post-training guide carefully enough. Up and down, up and down. In truth, I don't really know what's bothering. I think one of my residents is attracted to me, which is a bit disconcerning. I'm worried about a few of them, too. Some of them just have some growing up and realizing to do; nothing too out of the ordinary, really. It's strange...I'm stressed, but I don't necessarily feel stressed. I feel...pulled. I'm a pulled muscle and tonight I just feel tender. I feel like a woman and to cry might not be so far in my future. I feel like I have to be a certain person, say, do, and act a certain way. I don't know if I'm being true to myself or not. I guess, what really matters in the end, is that I'm still, on the larger scale, happy. It comes as a strange conclusion, but I am glad of it. I am relieved that even after my moments of character flaws and minute mind-crumbling thoughts, I can still lift my chin and say in ernest, I'm happy.