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I'm watching the end of The Departed right now; I'm doing this partially out of love, and partially because everyone else has gone to bed (and it's really the only thing I can do right now). I've been reading every day this entire vacation, and I can't presently bring myself to do much more of it. Part of my readings this vacation is what led for the need to put a semi-colon in the first sentence. I'm not even sure if it's grammatically correct or not, but I'm trying really hard to use punctuation correctly - or at least for the time being. After reading Eats, Shoots & Leaves for English, I have this extreme desire to effectively and masterfully use punctuation, because it's actually an art. The book is hysterical, and even though I don't, at this very moment, remember all the rules... (that is called an ellipsis!) I will when I go back and take notes on it. An act I actually want to do, no joke. This book has actually made me not dread punctuation.

Well, okay, after that oddity, onto mildly more interesting things. Today, I decided a number of things: mini-golf is one the most irritable, painful games a person could play; I love airports; and the fact that lately, I've been forcing myself to believe things just for the sake of having something to believe in.

I think my complete hatred of mini-golfing comes from the simple fact that either you're good at the thing, or your not; there's no in-between (once again throwing out a huge question mark for that). Either you're like me, and try as you might you will always tap the ball too softly and go nowhere near the hole, or simply overshoot out of sheer frustration. OR else you're one of those people who somehow manage to effortlessly sink the ball in the whole, without even giving it a thought. It doesn't help, either, when you're looking out at the other people playing, and watch five-year-olds succeed in doing what you would consider the impossible. Awesome.

Numero dos. I'm not really certain what, necessarily, triggered the thought, but I was just reminded of how much I love airports. Whenever I'm getting ready to take a flight, there's always this nervous sense of anticipation where I'm convinced absolutely anything can happen. I think another life goal for myself will be to, at some point, just pack my things, go to an airport, buy tickets for a random plane, and just... live. The spontantinuity of it all just sounds like a complete dream. Something I couldn't prepare for, something I would be left guessing about, something I couldn't stress about endlessly, I could just do.

And to address the third "realization," there's not especially much to it. I just feel like lately I've been making decisions about certain things only for the sake of feeling normal, and to have set expectations. When realistically, I feel certain ways not through my own personal emotions as much as the need to have those... feelings? It makes much more sense in my head.

I've lost all sense of focus for this. Instead, I will now indulge myself in this ridiculousness of taking Hugh Grant seriously. Night.