Sad midnight post time.

I looked at a room in a group house within walking distance of my school this morning. They were supposed to call me tonight to let me know whether I'm in. No word.

I was supposed to be on a date tonight to watch the 1984 Dune with this nice guy who had me write down Ursula K LeGuin's name so he could read her, but he canceled on me.

 I've been feeling restless and antsy, which resulted in making up unsatisfying errands for myself. Which resulted in spending money I didn't need to spend and checking out library books I probably won't read.

I decided to make yogurt this evening. My parents had gone out to dinner and to test drive cars, so I thought I would have plenty of time. This was my second go at yogurt-making. I'm still not super confident on it. My first batch turned out pretty thin, so I decided to try a couple new things today. My improvised double boiler is imperfect and kept wanting to bubble water over into the milk compartment. Holding the milk steady at 185, which some sources say I should do for up to 30 minutes, turned out to be impossible because of the bubbling problem.

Just as I admitted double boiler defeat, my parents came home. Frazzled, I left the milk to cool in the ice bath for too long and the temperature dropped too far. I didn't do my final clean/semi-sterilization of the jars in my rush to get the inoculated milk into them before it was way too cold. I was feeling grumpy and frustrated, and my parents were gazing on, peppering me with questions about what I was doing and, "is this really worth it?"

My mom told me later that I could have just told them to go away, but it's their kitchen. I can't kick my parents out of their kitchen. I'm just some loser living in their basement.

Anyway. In an attempt to repair the hurt feelings I generated by being a grump, I asked my mom if she wanted to go get frozen yogurt. So we went. We talked some. She gave me advice, which I didn't want, and I lashed out, which she didn't want. We went home separately.

"Well, fine, then," I thought miserably, "I'll just sit in the basement and wait for the yogurt to be done. At midnight. At the earliest." This is the problem with starting yogurt in the evening, unless you start it late enough that you can go to sleep right after. It's supposed to incubate for 4-8 hours, give or take. (I don't really have a feel for the timing yet, and the internet is not consistent with its messaging on this point.)

I decided to watch a movie to pass the time. I'm chose Julie & Julia. I just loved Amy Adams in Junebug, so I decided to look into some of her other movies. Anyway. I started sobbing partway through. I paused the movie for a sob break/to check on the yogurt, which seems like it wants to incubate a little more.

At some point in the movie, a woman's male partner leaves her. She is sad. And then he comes back. After all, they're in love and they're going to make it work.

I lost it.

I can't believe I'm doing this. I can't believe I'm sobbing over a chick flick. This isn't something that real people do. But, you know, those movie people are smart. They know how to tap into fairly universal scripts.

"Hey, can you believe it, I had something with someone, and it was rough for a bit, and then we were gonna make it work-- wow! this movie really speaks to me!"

Of course, I'm sobbing because we didn't make it work. And it hurts.

I hate starting over. I need to make new friends here, I need to get settled in a new job, I need to find a new house, I need to join new groups, I need to find new favorite places, I need to find a new confidante, new, new, new. I hate this. I hate introducing myself, explaining myself. I hate that everyone is a stranger. I want to be comfortable. I want to be surrounded by people who already understand me, who know who I am, who accept me. I want a space where I belong. I want to fit.

It's hard work, I'm tired, I'm crying over a chick flick, and my yogurt is still thin.