It seems like every time I feel like posting here it's late at night when I've got music playing on this laptop of mine (reunited, at last).

I can't figure out if I'm posting less these days because there's less happening (unlikely), or because I'm just not online as much late at night with music playing (more likely)--like when I was a student.

Currently living in a creepy house. Creepy in many ways. Especially with the psycho phone call I got the other night, when I already had a pretty bad feeling about the place. My dad mentioned having me drag someone over to sleep here and to keep me company. Haha. Laughable. Oh, how's that guy friend? That guy...? What's his name...Jack?...doing? By the way, here's a book "Why Marry Jewish?

My dad has good intentions, and he is one of the people I admire most in this world. Sometimes I worry about him--that's another personal reason I came back a bit earlier from my trip. He's a remarkable man. The rest is classified. For now, at least.

Anyway, that phone call the other night--I don't want to explain it too vividly because it is late here, and I am (supposedly) going to bed soon, since I'll be waking up relatively early tomorrow morning.

So I answer this phone, and here's the dialogue:

*silence*

me: Hello?...Hello?...Hello?...

*silence*

her (in a creepily pale affected imitation): "Heellloo...Heelloooo...Heeelllooo. Thank you."

*silence*

*I hang up, freaked out*

I call my dad. "Dad, if this phone disconnects suddenly and you can't reach me when you call back--call the police." My dad agrees. Luckily, I get out of there alive.

There's reason enough for these paranoiac illusions of mine. But I'll leave the explanations to a daytime hour since I'm already starting to creep myself out.

Being back in LA is marvelous. I remember why I love this city so much. I've felt very gratified many times this past week. There is so much to do, so much I have enjoyed doing already. Though I am nervous, apprehensive and somewhat dreading the start of work--I'm also very very excited, and I am glad to be so. I think the dread mostly stems from a self-doubt and a fear of disappointing not only (or not really) others, but especially myself. I know I'll get over it. Time is short. As is life.

(Augh, creeped out again by that last sentence of mine. Dammit!)

*deep breath*

My new favorite phrase of the moment--"Life's too short." Granted, I heard this used as a reason for this woman separating from her husband in Israel...and the statement was not exactly vocalized in hope or happiness--more like despaire--but that's hardly the point. It reverberated with me. Life is too short. And I choose to take that statement in a more positive light. I need to soak up each moment.

I remember when a friend of mine was graduating from high school the last months as a senior he spent getting maybe a couple hours of sleep each night. The rest of the time we chatted on the phone, he listened to music, played basketball, spent time with his family, and did a lot more, I'm sure. The point is, what he told me was that he wanted to stay up as long and as much as possible. To prolong and really experience every moment of this period in his life. That he wanted it to last forever. Oh, but how I identify with him right now, and often enough I think back to him telling me that. How things change.

But here I am, still somewhat the same, though I am somewhat different. Or, as my friend reassuring commented today--"Your still the same ol' LYLT, good, that's comforting...At least I know I'll like you."