Last night I cried till 3 am, when my mom finally had to go to sleep. I guess I really did need to cry. However it didn't help me feel much better, just a little bit less stuffed with stuff.

I want to have the energy to write a full entry, in immense detail of the slanting slopes of the deep brown mountains and the way in which they were being gently kissed by cloud cover. I want to tell you of the stunning uninhibited depths of blue in what will be my new view of the open sky and much bigger world outside. And the empathy I felt for the tall trees in the distance, as I stood at my new window and watched them, unable to move, yet still dancing beautifully in the breeze. And I want to describe the thick smell of pollen coming from the golden flowers that have turned Santa Fe into something from a fairytale - golden fields filled with millions of golden flowers. I want to express that I do appreciate this � getting to see, feel, touch, smell, and love these things.

I want to feel that my life outside means as much as the years of my life spent inside, and that I'm giving as much effort to being out in the world as I have to being indoors - both home and at school. I want to say that it means everything to me - but I'm not sure. Maybe I'm just adjusting to myself. All adjustments take time, and usually need reassurance from others that you'll survive the fall should it happen. But I do feel mostly as if it's slipping from me. As if this newfound freedom is just too good to enjoy forever. 'Enjoy it while you can � to remember it after it slips away � again.'

All the same, Josh is tired of me. In too many ways, since the semester started, I lost my best friend as he's been more absent than present, even when he is present.

Today we signed the new lease, breathed the dreadful air on the other side of Santa Fe, and I have $300 less to my name (pet deposit). Our new oven is cheap � lacking even a window � sadly, burned dinners are in my future. We measured the washer/dryer area, and don't think it's big enough, depth-wise, for our standard sized washer and dryer, which is disappointing after two years of being unable to use ours here for similar architectural design problems. And, I also have a water leak problem in my new bedroom, and a wall now bubbled and damaged. *sigh* They said they'll fix it � when, I don't know.

On the positive side, I can see the mountains both north and south from my porch � my porch which is not facing another building and from which I *should* be able to the see the sunsets. The elevator is still padded, and I thought again what I thought the first time I was in it � wondering if they do indeed pad the insides of psychiatric ward elevators, and if not � why not? I have a bedroom closet big enough to put my entire bed in and still have floor space, and (!!) it was dead quiet today � wonderfully studyably quiet.

I have no idea how to set up my new room. One wall is adjacent to another person's livingroom, not exactly attached, but approx 1.5 feet away. I'm afraid of bothering them with my stereo. If I sleep on my wall that is by my mother's room, I'll be kept awake by her snoring. I might have to pay to trash my terribly big computer desk, and buy something smaller.

I got to watch a bird floating on the wind. I tried to take a photo of him, but the wind carried him away too quickly. I am so sincerely going to be a bird in my next life - it's settled.

I have homework to do, but it doesn't seem to matter much. I've a feeling I'm going to cry while reading through the Marshall Rosenberg interview, which I have to get through enough to comment one to two pages on. And the redundancy of journal writing in the CS class, is getting pathetic. But the journal entries are almost over. Next Tuesdays are the last, and then we will be doing more interactive activities. P (I'm sure just for me) did suggest doing something with writing, then acting out the "drama scenes" in class � that *was* sweet of him.

I've also been thinking of how , last Tuesday, when I showed him one of my favorite paintings by one of my favorite painters � The Lady of Shalott by JW Waterhouse , how he knew both the painting and the poem, and knew another Waterhouse painting. And how he sweetly asked if I thought I looked like the girls in his paintings, and the way he smiled at me when I told him that I know I do. Because I really do. But the fact that he noticed it too, makes it worth more somehow. Ophelia, the water nymphs, Persephone, Lady Elaine�and me�