I'm very glad that I'm not at Bryn Mawr for room draw. I think I get contact anxiety, and that ain't cool. I could almost barely care less where I live next year. I used to think that where I lived made all the difference for my social life, and I was very concerned about making and maintaining good, healthy friendships. But it's not everything, and mostly I'm just interested in having a spacious floor, space for my bookshelf, but mostly just a room to myself.

I've been reading tomato nation, hacking away on my cold while attempting to conceal my convulsive laughter. It's really quite attractive. Also I am being laughed at. With stuff like this she makes me feel a lot better about myself! I don't seem half as bad:

"Stupidest thing done while drunk: So much embarrassing behavior, so little time. In order to avoid writing an entire novel in response to this question, I'll go ahead and eliminate various inebriated hook-ups, prank calls to exes, prank calls to friend's exes, ill-advised confessions of love, and instances of clothing removal, and say that I should never have accepted that piggyback ride from Nip that time, because he tripped, and we both fell on his face, and he had a big old cut on the bridge of his nose and big old black eye, and I got a bone bruise on my hand and limped around like a one-legged sailor for the next three days. I've never done anything really bad like get married or wake up in another city with no idea how I got there or anything. I did go home with a guy whose name I didn't even know once, and we didn't have any money for the cab, so the guy bribed the cab driver with the promise of bong hits. Hey, that's really stupid. That's way stupider than the piggyback-ride thing. Sarah is a stupid girl. Sarah is a stupid, orphaned girl, because both of her parents have just suffered massive heart attacks and swooned to the floor. Ma? Dad? I ended up dating the guy, okay? Very nice guy, in the end. A med student, very sweet. Ma?"

Ah sweet jesus, nothing like finding someone worse off than yourself. I very distinctly remember thinking at one point that I disagreed with her (it may have been about politics) but I can't really remember why or how anymore. She's a very familiar figure - most of the essays from 2000 I remember reading very distinctly. How old was I? Um, let's see, I just asked someone if it's 2004. It's not, it's 2003. Wow, I sound like a moron. Three years ago, I was finishing up highschool. Yeah, that would make sense. I would be reading Tomato Nation then. I would be spending hours online. Yup, makes sense. Ah, I love reading those familiar old essays in familiar books. I like reading it, most of all, from a new perspective.

So hum, man who's been grinning at me, since I arrived, talked to me today. We shall refer to him as grounds keeper Willy, because that's what he is. I almost had a moment of flighty, horrible, terror when he came to speak to me. I'm not sure how to deal with this. This has never really happened before - no one's really acted on random eye contact before.

2003-04-10, Oh yeah, it's not 2004 yet.

before / after

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