addendum

I would like to post an addendum to my previous post regarding parties: I have now discovered the kind of party I like. It happened Saturday night at the Quickie house, and was highly enjoyable, involving a bunch of people I sort of knew and a number of people I did know, and a lot of sitting around listening to music and chatting and some wonderfully awkward dancing. There should be more of these.

In other news, it was like, seventy degrees today. I wore a skirt and sat out on the porch barefoot all afternoon, soaking up the sun and breeze while doing my homework. It was glorious.

So all in all, it's been a lovely weekend.

tired

So, I went to a party at Snu this evening with Sara and some other people. Fun people. I like them. And I've come to realize that frat parties, no matter when or where, will always take me back in some way to fall term of last year. I went to three parties that term: Beta, TKE, and Snu. (For comparison, I've been to that many since, all of them at Snu as well—once was enough at the other two.) And for a minute this evening, over by the wall, doing something that slightly resembled dancing, instead of Dee, it was Sarah, my first roommate, leaning over to yell in my ear, "Are you having fun?"

I don't want to be the antisocial weirdo who knows nobody and never goes anywhere. I don't want to be the "project" friend that people try to coax into being social. I really don't. And I don't think I am, not really. But I don't like frat parties.

I don't dislike them. They often have their fun moments. But it's only just something to do. It's like playing Text Twist: something to do to pass the time between doing things I really like. It can be fun sometimes, but it's not like I get out of class and think, "Oh boy, I can't wait to go home and play Text Twist this evening!" And unlike Text Twist, after an hour at a frat party, I'm ready to go home. I'm overwhelmed. The crush of people, the pounding music, the shouting to be heard, the flashing lights—for me, these are generally things to be tolerated, not sought out.

And so I end up walking home alone most times, while everybody else stays at the party. But that's okay. It gives me time to settle down. I need that sometimes.

maaaaath

I took a math test today. Well, yesterday now, I suppose. I don't want to make any overconfident assumptions, but, well, I'm pretty sure I kicked its ass. It's amazing what an hour's cramming can do. I'm actually eager to get the thing back—I haven't felt so accomplished in a long time.

That said, I only slept three hours last night, and now it's 5 AM and I'm still awake again. I don't have any Thursday classes, but I do need to get some things done, and I will have to be awake for Friday, which means I have to sleep Thursday night. This could be a problem.

Ah well. After Friday, it's the weekend again. I can make it 'til then.

botany!

I really ought to be in bed. It doesn't count as research for a story anymore when you've got three times more information than you could possibly use. But Wikipedia is a fascinating place. And gardening is a fascinating topic. And I'm amazed at how one name can refer to so many different types of flowers.

Also, I'd forgotten about snapdragons. Those were my favorite flowers when I was little. And impatiens. And dusty millers.

I want a flower garden.

baffling

It has been a week of crises. Well, a two-and-a-half-weeks of crises, really. Some more major than others. But I can deal with that. I think.

At any rate, what's bugging me right at this moment is a medium-sized and decidedly painful bruise on the underside of my left forearm. It appeared there two days ago, and I don't know what on earth could have caused it. I generally don't bruise for anything, and now I've had two unexplained bruises, both on my left arm, in as many weeks. Nothing large or particularly alarming—just inexplicable.

I wonder if my arm will fall off next. That would be unfortunate.

I would just like to know...

...why I can only seem to write between the hours of 1 and 4 AM. Srsly kids. This is not conducive to maintaining a healthy sleep schedule. Goddamn fiction.

Oh well. While I'm up, I guess I'll share. Better than caffeine, this.

an experiment

I feel like there's a difference between gossiping and just talking about someone behind their back. I'm not sure what it is. I think maybe it's intent. Gossip is malicious. It may or may not be true. The intent is to start rumors, to make other people think worse of the subject of the gossip. Talking about someone behind their back can mean anything. Well, not anything. It's talking about a person who is not present. This can be a good thing (e.g. planning a surprise birthday party), but you and I both know that's not what I'm talking about here.

I feel like sometimes it's necessary to talk about somebody behind their back. Sometimes you have strong feelings about a person, and you can't come straight out and tell that person, because you have to work things out first, so you don't say something you don't mean; it is often beneficial and sometimes necessary to bounce ideas off another person before you do that. Of course, that's not what I'm talking about here. Okay Andrea, quit beating around the bush.

I'm talking about venting. Ranting. You know. Oh-my-god-I'm-so-sick-of-so-and-so, that kind of stuff. This is not bouncing ideas, nor is it quite gossip. At least, not in this case: it's all true, and the intent is not for it to go any farther than that set group of people (two or three, myself not included) to whom I'm venting, and I know it won't. So is it wrong?

Sometimes people--okay, let's be honest, I'm talking about one person here--make me very upset, and in this case, it is a person I cannot always reasonably avoid. There is a small group of people who share this predicament. We are stuck in this predicament, probably for the rest of the year at least. Confronting this person about anything, even in the most gentle and constructive manner possible, is at best ineffective, and at worst, it starts a long, smoldering argument. Experience has confirmed this fact repeatedly. So what do we do? Do we sit in silence, waiting, hoping for the issue to go away, remaining stoically unmoved through every outrageous word and action springing forth from this person? I posit that this is an impossibility. It cannot be done, at least not by me, and that's saying something, because I feel that I am generally a very imperturbable person. So we vent. It harms no one, and it keeps us from going insane or finally breaking down and engaging in a screaming match in some public space. I feel that this is perfectly acceptable.

Still, I wonder.

Perhaps I shall make an experiment. I will not talk about anyone not present in a negative manner for one week, starting now. 3:30 AM Sunday morning, Feb. 3, until the same time Feb. 10. We shall see how this goes.