Feeds:Monday, Fifth Week
"Don't do it again, or I'll come downstairs and I won't be naked." - Eighth floor Carolyn, 01/025
I don't know that I ever properly thanked Patrick or Brooklyn for signing my guestbook. So then, thank you both.
It occurred to me as I was walking home this evening that I've overcome my homophobia, which was a pleasant surprise. I don't expect the same to happen to my anti-Frankism, but that might be because of the different between fear and dislike, in that one often desires to eliminate fears to a much greater degree than one desires to alter one's preferences.
And now, I will pause briefly to relate the conversation I was not able to include in my last post. I have this habit of anticipating such scenes and conversations as might be awkward, though the exact situations rarely occur, and thus my hypotheses remain merely, well, hypothetical and anticipatory.
If I said, "If I loved you, how would you want me to express that?" then she would ask, "Do you love me?" I would say, "If I say yes, and qualify my answer, you will resent me for doing so. If I say yes and do not qualify my answer, you would not believe me and resent me for lying. And if I say no, it would hurt you." I would look upand into her eyes, and then I would say, "Let me say that I love you enough not to answer your question."
What a weekend I have had. Paper due Friday afternoon, raight? So what do I do Thursday night? Why, go to the Fireside Bowl, of course! To make this post of a tolerable length, I'll post about that some other time. But I was out for seven and a half hours or so. Not to worry; I got my paper in on time, and I personally think it was an alright paper. That 'doing the reading' thing kinda helps, I guess. Friday night, went to a party I was invited to. Apparantly it was a Circus party; it was awesome. I wrote a haiku about it that I think is actually worthwhile. It was spontaneous, as all good haiku should be. I would post it here, but I think I'd rather maliciously submit it to Euphony. I do a lot of things maliciously.
Saturday, did laundry, patched four pairs of pants, and party-hopped between David's birthday party and Srikant's birthday party. Both were fun; Srikant's was packed. I danced for a bit, then struck up a conversation with this Hitchcock girl Lorange. Well, Lauren Sailor. Sailor! She was pretty cool. When the cops came, we rolled over to David's party, which was dying down, so we rolled back to Srikant's, where we ended up taking care of her very drunk roommate. Said roomie, Alyssa, was quite, as they say, well-stacked, and many people confessed when she was out of the room they were having a hard time keeping their hands off her. I'm glad my friends are the types to not take advantage of drunk girls. Except Jay Lee, who kept groping her quiety. I'm not sure she noticed. *headshake* Eventually, I drove them back to Snitchcock in Mike's car, and then Mike and I went back to Shoreland. Last bit: coming off the elevator, I see some guy lying with his back to the elevators on a couch in the lounge. I'm like, 'Ah, well, whatever.' Then he falls off, and I chuckle. Then I notice that Maria is also lying on the couch, and can't help chuckling harder. Then I went to bed. It was good times. All the parties were good parties, as judged by the standard that I enjoyed myself while sober.
Oh, yeah, and check out Small Stories, 'cause it's freakin' awesome.
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