Laundry and Lockouts

This post is going to be a compendium of a few different events, all of them utterly interesting.

Laundry, the first time:

The first week had ended, and the second was rapidly approaching. I discovered that I had run out of underwear and tanks, and my bras were starting to smell.

For a moment, I was confused about the path forward, but then it hit me: laundry. I loaded up my bin, then began the intrepid trek downstairs (by downstairs, I mean, literally, down one flight of stairs to the eighth floor, where I thought the laundry machine was, then down a second flight of stairs, to the seventh floor, where the laundry machine actually was.)

On my way down, I ran into (note: not literally) Arthur. Seizing upon the opportunity to socialize, I asked if he would come with me, as I frequently have issues with laundry.

He looked somewhat confused, but he soon consented. We entered the laundry room. The door shut. I had a moment of awkward realization that I was alone in a windowless room with a male of the species before I shrugged it off and began sorting my lights and brights.

All was well. I poured detergent into the first machine and figured out how to insert quarters. I went to put detergent into the second machine.

It was then that I discovered that my laundry detergent bottle was not, in fact, symmetrical. It was really rather asymmetrical, with only one side appropriate for pouring. I realized this belatedly, when a tide of Tide fell upon the machine, dripping down to my legs and non-pouring arm.

I began to laugh madly, and Arthur joined in. Through my somewhat hysterical giggles, I asked him to put quarters into the second machine, which he did, only to realize that he'd leaned into it and gotten detergent all over his shorts. We laughed again.

I then apologized profusely for being such a klutz, and offered to wash the shorts. He agreed, stepped back, and was about a half a second away from de-shortsing himself before he realized that would probably be a bad idea.

He said he'd go upstairs, I said I could do with a towel, we got halfway down the hall when I realized I'd forgotten my wallet, so Arthur, being the less soapy of the two of us, went back and fished it out.

We went upstairs, I washed my legs in his sink, then realized that there were no towels in his bathroom, so I hopped, wet leg off the ground, over to his door, through which I called "Arthur? Towel? Please?"

Arthur, in clean cargo shorts identical to the previous pair, emerged with towel. I finished de-sudsing, then we went back down, threw in his shorts, started the machine, and returned to our respective rooms.

Later, we both went on the dinner trip to Fire and Ice but didn't talk to each other.

Laundry #2

Leila did the laundry. She came back and said, "You are not allowed to call me a bad roommate, I made you laundry!" It was so adorable I decided not to correct her.

Laundry #3

I combined loads with Astrid and Leila. Astrid helped me sort. I changed the clothes over, then eventually brought them back.

During the walk to the machine, Dawson and Arthur followed me part way, then left me in Astrid's capable hands.

Laundry #4

Dawson announced that he was doing laundry. I mentioned that I was running out of underwear and needed to do the whole laundry thing. I asked if I can throw a few pairs in with his clothes so that I could delay more effectively.

He, somewhat uncomfortably, agreed. I got my undies, he got his clothes and detergent, we both put in some quarters and some clothes and started the machines.

During the 45 interim minutes, I took a shower, then realized that it'd been 45 minutes, threw on my sundress (yes, and nothing else) and rushed down to meet him.

The clothes smelled suspiciously not clean.

I asked how much detergent he put in. He looked confused. I asked again. He said "I thought you put it in."

"No, you definitely did."

"I did not."

"Oh."

We paused, looked at the machines, prepared to reload.

He looked uncomfortable.

"What?" I asked.

"I can't get over the whole 'underwear' thing."

"Fine." I took them out, he added detergent, and we left.

"Do you want to go get dinner?" he asked.

I agreed, then realized that I wasn't hungry. "Wait, no."

"What?"

"I'm sorry, it's just, well, I'm not really supposed to agree to do things with you just because I want to be around you anymore."

"Oh. Right."

"Yeah."

We stood awkwardly. I went upstairs, then realized that my key was in my room.

I, notably, was not in said room.

Which brings us to Lockout #1

I was fortunate that I was in possession of many panties, and that my bathroom, with its small heap of dirty clothing was unlocked.

I was also fortunate in that I'd left my backpack full of work under Nicholas's care in the student center to return to at a later time.

I got downstairs, newly clad in tank and cargos, and flung myself upon the couch. Astrid, Minette, and Norman looked at my questioningly.

"I'm locked out. I have no shoes. I have no sweater. I'm going to W20 to work, because I have no money and can't eat."

Astrid loaned me her horribly undercharged meal card (I think Sweden has been overpaying her), and Norman brought me upstairs and loaned me a horribly expensive sweater.

I then went to W20 and worked until Leila got back with her key and let me in. This was a time period along the lines of 3 hours, as she'd gone on a movie trip.

Lockout #2

I was at least wearing clothes this time. I show up at bedcheck, go "Leila, I'm locked out again," she gives me her key, I return a moment or two later, pillow in hand.

Lockout #3

Repeat, verbatim, Lockout #2.

These events led me to two my superlatives: most likely to injure myself, and most likely to get locked out.

Yay, me.

The Degree of Neglect

That you have been experiencing is pathetically large. Much of it stems from the fact that I got rather ill on the 11th (the day we're pretending it is right now), and the rest stems from a lot of interesting occasions related to the opposite gender that I will not transcribe here because my RSI blogs are not precisely anonymous.

Regardless, I apologize, and I will try to make it up to you as soon as I can.

On July 11th, I slept until noon. I was up late as well, and I suppose I could relate that in my account, but there wasn't much to relate, aside from the fact that Rube and two of his friends had visited the evening before to play frisbee, and that they'd wanted more people than just me, so I'd called Dawson, who was with Gabriel, and we spent like ten minutes about a hundred yards apart, waving at each other without the other one seeing, on the phone going "I'm doing jumping jacks." "I can't see you" "Seriously, I'm right here!" while Rube and friends looked confused.

We eventually rounded up a larger group of people, but then those PROMYS jerks proceeded to kick our butts, which was somewhat bad. Apparently Rube's whole long distance running and good hand-eye coordination thing makes him good at frisbee. How very frustrating.

Anyways, back to the 11th. I got up at noon, and then my wonderful family came to visit about an hour later. My sisters (Shelby in particular) were very appreciative of the ball pit, which is understandable, considering that it is completely and utterly awesome. Eventually the family left, and I went to W20 with a backpack full of papers and settled down to read.

About a half an hour later, I felt like complete crap, so I walked back to Simmons to recuperate. I was so hot after the walk that I lay down on the couch on the first floor and refused to move. My tylenol, however, was upstairs. It was an extremely unfortunate situation.

At some point, Teresa came over and asked if I wanted her to buy me some medicine. I said that I had some upstairs, I just hurt too much to move, so I gave her my key and she went up to get them.

However, Teresa is an international student, and she didn't know the names of pills, so she brought down my entire bag. Unfortunately, the entire bag consisted of a giant pink plastic Victoria's Secret monstrosity, because it was the only thing my mother could find in the house that was opaque and large enough to put food in as well. Larry, who was on the couch opposite me, took one look at the bag and began to laugh. Teresa left, I rolled over and ignored Larry, and then I thought about how to get the bag upstairs without either moving or letting too many people see it.

A few minutes later, someone shoved their hands over my eyes. They felt squishy, warm, and biggish, and there is a limited number of people who would do such a thing to me, so I growled "Nicholas" in an angry voice. The hands immediately went away.

It wasn't Nicholas.

"Oh my god, I'm sorry, I thought you were someone else," said the boy, who was, I think, one of the MITES.

"Yeah, I figured."

"Sorry."

I shrugged.

"This is really awkward."

"Yeah."

"Like, really awkward."

"Yeah." Suddenly, I had an idea. "Hey, do you want to redeem your awkwardness?"

"Depends what I have to do."

"Can you bring this bag to my room for me?"

"Okay."

So, I gave him the bag and my key, and away he went.

Larry rolled over to look at me. "Did you seriously just give him your room key?"

"Yes?"

"You trust him?"

I shrugged. "I guess so."

"Why?"

"Why not?"

"You don't know him!"

"I dunno, I just trust people. Maybe it's stupid, but I do."

"Oh."

Larry and I looked at each other, then turned to look at the elevator, then we both began to laugh somewhat hysterically.

We were still laughing when, fifteen minutes later, the boy returned, my key in his hand, apologizing for how long the elevator took.

I continued to lie on the couch and moan for quite some time. At some point, I called Dawson to beg for food, who called Ululani and got him to bring me a bagel. I got first Nell, then Bing to sit on my legs and keep them warm, and when Dawson showed up I got use of his towel as a blanket, and Maxwell brought my my ipod, and the moral of the story is that if one moans about how crappy they feel for long enough, people will do nice things.

Yay!

Beware of Bad Drivers

Today, I went for a walk. I went down along the beach, squinting and looking at the ground directly in front of my feet the entire time.

I made it all the way around, smiling awkwardly at the exercise walkers and other passer-byes, and headed down the home stretch away from the statue towards my street. I was getting a bit tired, so I stopped, switched my ipod to something marginally peppier, and continued walking, since I lack to coordination to choose a song and walk at the same time.

I looked up into the oncoming traffic and saw a car swerving sideways, straight towards me. "Wow, that's odd," I thought to myself, having no apparent regard for my own life and limb. The car pulled to a stop right next to me and rolled down a window.

"Tea!" called an interior voice.

I bent down and peered through the car window. "Kathrya!"

"Do you need a ride? What are you doing walking?"

"I went for a walk. I'm not going anywhere."

"Oh, well, that does make sense."

"Were you at Nyx's house?" I asked, since she had come from that direction.

"No, I was dropping of Nia after going to the mall," Kathrya said. She kept talking, and I recollected some vague memory of Nia's gift cards for some store she wanted to go to, so I nodded along. "I should probably go," she finished.

"Well, if the offer of a ride still stands, I'm kind of tired, and I'd like to go home."

"Get in." She unlocked the door and I sat down. I suppose she must have done a u-turn, but I wasn't really paying attention. "You look exhausted. I saw you standing there, and my first thought was 'is that Tea?' followed immediately by 'is she going to pass out?'"

"I didn't realize I looked that tired," I said.

She made a half-hearted effort to stop at the stop sign, then decided not to and sped up.

"That was a horrible stop," I said, ever the annoying backseat driver.

"There wasn't anybody there. There really is no point in stopping if there aren't any other cars."

I shrugged. "I suppose."

We chattered about the niceness of her car and the glories of an automatic temperature control system until we reached my house. She let me out behind a clump of bushes so that my parents wouldn't know that I bummed a ride, then drove around the culdesac and away.

There was no real point to that story.

I guess I should tell it again.

Awkward Phone Conversation

"Tea," said Mom. "Could you call Libby for me? I need to tell her we're going to be there in an hour."

Libby is Mom's friend from college. She is also the mother of Donal, the boy who looked exactly like Nick Jonas until he shaved all his hair off. He did look better with a bit more hair, but it came off because he told a friend with one of those awful semi-pubescent kind-of-beards that if he shaved the beard, Donal would shave the skull, so I have to credit Donal with a certain amount of altruism, as one less badly bearded boy breeds a better world. Her daughter, Alba, is only eleven but already has bigger feet than me. Her husband is named Sherman. They live near Boston, so we were spending the night there.

"Yeah, sure."

"Great." Mom dialed and passed the phone to me.

"Hi," said a male voice.

"Oh, hello, it's Tea and [Tea's Mom]," I said to the voice. "It's Sherman," I told Mom.

"Oh, tell him we'll be there in an hour," said Mom, at the exact same time Sherman said, "No, it's Donal."

I started talking. "Oh, well, I heard I guy, so I assumed-"

"Yeah, I'm not my Da-"

"Sorry. I just got confused and thought that-"

"Tell him we'll be there are 4:40!" said Mom.

"It's not Sherman, it's Donal!"

"Tell him anyways!"

"Okay! Donal, our GPS is forecasting an estimated arrival time of 4:37."

"Alright."

"Yeah."

"Well, we're at home."

"That's good."

"Yeah."

"I kind of figured you were at home, since this is the home phone."

"Well, we'll still be here."

"Okay. Um. Bye."

"Bye."

We both hung up.

Math Geeks and Prom

Because, of course, we need to be thinking about prom dates already. Although I was having perfectly reasonable conversation with Ginny, Tybalt, and Gretchen, the group in the back had other ideas. Owen couldn't figure out who to ask to senior prom, so Mario suggested that he ask a junior or sophomore- if you ask down, the girl is so excited to even be going that she'll enjoy it more. Because that worked so well for Mario, who barely talked to his senior prom date (he is, by the way, actually going to Counties with Rachel. This still pisses me off. A lot. I wish I could tag along a cackle gleefully over their awkwardness, because, as it is, I'll just be stuck trying to sleep and being accosted by horrible images of what they could be getting up to. HCl, HCl, HCl). They consensus was that Irving put out an advertisement on the morning show and request applications, two recommendations needed. This started because of some brief mention that Dino was in need of a fembot, as Irving and Owen had only just noticed that Dino talks like a robot, and they seem to find this the funniest thing in the whole world.

They were laughing as much as Kathrya did this morning when she said I wanted to see Mario without any pants on and I started throwing shirts at her, and she decided that meant I was proposing marriage and crumpled to the floor, dissolved into hysterics.

I told this to Gretchen, and her response was to look at me, confused. "You want to see him without PANTS on?!" "That's not the point," I responded.

Anyways, after the math meet, I was walking towards my truck with Melissa, Tybalt and Bryant.

"So, Tea," Melissa said. "If, hypothetically, Dino asked you to prom..."

"Hmm?"

"If, hypothetically, and I'm not saying he will, it's just that I'm supposed to find him a date and I think I need to start asking early, Dino asked you to prom, would you say yes?"

"Well....." I trailed off.

Tybalt and Bryant laughed.

"I mean, I don't have any big vendetta against him or anything, and I can't see any reason to turn him down, so I'd probably end up saying yes, but...don't make me your first choice, okay?"

"Sure. It's just, you're nice, so I thought you'd say yes."

"I need to get meaner."

"It's alright, I'll start looking for sophomores. I figure if I find someone now, I can introduce them and give them time to get to know each other before hand."

"I don't want to be mean to him, it's just that, well, if we went together, we'd just end up insulting each other the whole time."

"Awwww. It'd be like a love-hate relationship!"

I snorted incredulously. "Bye!" I called and then split off to go to my truck.

I think Tybalt or Bryant said "bye" back. Melissa definitely didn't.

This Week At SHP

I got to the station rather ridiculously early because I had to buy a new ticket, and I really wasn't in the mood to move quickly. I stood around for about seven or eight minutes by myself, growing progressively more worried when no one else showed up. I then texted Melissa and called my house. Neither responded. A couple minutes later, pretty much exactly at the time when the train is supposed to show up, Mario walked out of the station.

"Oh, good," I said, and walked over to him. We exchanged the typical perfunctory greetings. "I was beginning to think I didn't have class."

"Oh." He frowned for a moment. "I dunno. I didn't check."

"I called my Dad, but he didn't pick up. I texted Melissa, also."

"She didn't text back?"

"No. I can only assume that she must be asleep, cause she always has her phone with her."

"Yeah." We looked awkwardly around and try to think of something to say. He put his notebook on the ledge. I took my hat off. He picked his notebook up. I put my hat on. He counted the number of pages in the folder. I looked to the direction the train was coming in. I looked the other direction because the sun was too bright.

"Do you think anyone else is going to show up?" he asked.

"I dunno. I think Archie said he had ACTs."

"Irving never comes."

"Melissa's sleeping."

"I dunno about Ariadne."

"Me neither and oh! that's me!" My purse had begun to play Mozart. I pulled out my phone.

"Hello?"

"Hi. Why'd you call?"

"There wasn't anyone else here so I wasn't sure if I had class."

"What?"

"There wasn't anyone else here so I wasn't sure if I had class."

"I can't understand you."

"There wasn't-"

"What?"

"I wanted you to check the class schedule."

"Oh. Why didn't you say so?"

"Well it's fine now, Mario's here- it's my dad- and so you don't really need to-"

"He probably should. I'm not certain that we have class," said Mario.

"Could you check? It's on the bulletin board and the internet."

"Sure. I'll call you back when I find it. It'll be a couple of minutes. I'm upstairs. I was in the bathroom."

"Great, Dad, thanks." I hung up. "He has to walk downstairs to check," I told Mario.

He nodded.

"Do you know what time it is?"

I've just come to the realization that if I don't stop myself, I could probably easily reiterate the entire days conversation right now. Well, it'd probably take me an hour or two- we definitely spent at least that long talking- but I'm pretty sure I remember all of it. I guess I'll try to give a highlight reel. We spent a good amount of the time, both up and back, doing colleges. I think that since it's a clear, overlapping interest, and Mario's slightly obsessed, it works reasonably well. What's really funny is when I relate his own opinions back at him, using different words, from things he's told me before, and he just nods along in agreement, sure that I came up with it myself, and not that I'm just trying to fill in his words so he doesn't have to strain himself thinking of them. During the cab ride back, he was talking about the repetitiveness of people's college essays and I mentioned that he sounded like he could work in a college admissions office already.

"I know." He paused. "It's kind of pathetic."

I didn't respond. I wasn't really sure how to.

A Payson Develops a Sense of Loss

The show is finally over. Guys and Dolls is kaput. All the free time on my hands may send me into shock. I played the guitar for the first time in two months today. Of course, I could only play for about two minutes, cause my calluses had disappeared and my fingers were tired and it just plain hurt. I also played piano for about an hour, but not Guys and Dolls stuff. Just Debussey sight-reading. It was glorious.

The final show went fabulously. The only snag was that one of the sax's light went out, but it was between numbers, and I passed him a bulb to replace it, because the bulbs are under the grand, but the fixture was too hot, so I just passed him an entirely new light set-up, and he managed to get the whole thing up and running by the time Havana started. Which is good, because the band teacher plays cowbells instead of her sax during that song, so he's doing double duty. He actually used to play maracas, but the band teacher took them away because she thought he was being overenthusiastic. This is coming from the woman who badly bangs the cowbells for the entire song while her facial expression resembles that of a child who has just discovered Christmas. Or Hanukka, if you want to roll that way.

When we got to the pit party, and it was just the two random saxes and Joanne and Cammie and I, we overcame the general awkwardness by dissolving into hysterics over the cowbells. When Ida showed up to the party at her house, she was incredibly confused by how much we were laughing.

We spent a good amount of time gossiping. (Why is Harry so grumpy? Nobody knows, but Morgan thinks his looks would be much improved if we attacked his hair with a weed-wacker. Why the hell is Emily still all over Spencer? He's out and proud, but they still hook up, even though she has a boyfriend. What fabulous flutist has a bit of a thing for a different fabulous flutist? The world may never know.) Anita and Richard tickled each other extensively. Cammie and I interrupted each other constantly. I begin to understand why Vicky thinks she talks a lot.

Also, there are photocopies of Eccentrius's face on the floor of the band room. I, for one, am simply thankful that he didn't go the traditional route and photocopy his ass. Or arse, as Joanne and her mum would say.

A final conversation with Harry:

Tea: I put your music with your bag.

Harry: Huh?

Tea: You left it in the pit.

Harry: Yeah

Tea: By the way good job on the second act

Harry: Yeah

I was going to talk about falling over...

but Kathrya has it covered, although she did miss the one where I fell off of my own chair during math.

In that case, I'll have to use an alternate story.

One fundamentally awkward aspect of the school bathrooms is the presence of those little communal tampon bins, particularly in the cases where the bins were removed from the door and instead sit between the stalls, displaying their bloody contents to the world.

Now, I don't know about you, but I don't really want the acquaintance in the next stall over seeing the evidence of my menstrual cycle as it seeps through the toilet paper I wrapped my tampon up in. It's a private, personal part of being a woman. And I'm proud of my vagina and all that jazz, but I still think the blood is gross, and I generally avoid announcing the current state of my bits to the world, this blog and Nyx aside.

However, today, as I was swapping my own feminine hygiene products, Becky (an extremely petite senior in my physics and government classes) dropped an applicator into the bin. My first thought was "How odd, I thought seniors were post-menstrual and didn't get their periods."

The Breakfast Club

Today in health, Ms. Martie unsuccessfully attempted to get the class to do yoga. She ended up getting so fed up that she had as do coloring book pages of mandalas. It was surprisingly fun, but all of the quiet and time to think made Kathrya really grumpy, to the point where she actually snapped at Nia.

Last year in health, we watched The Breakfast Club. Here are some highlights from my write-up about it.

• Andrew got detention because he attacked another boy and taped his butt together.
• Socially, I am a follower. When I’m with a group of friends, I rarely come up with ideas of what we should do. I’ll trail along after people rather than forging my own path. Also, even when I do want to try something on my own, I feel that need to bring a friend along with me, so that I don’t feel like I am exposing myself in any way.
• I think that although you could never find exact replicas of the students, I could definitely find basic outlines. I know plenty of brains, myself included. I know a kid who devotes hours of time to playing football despite the fact that he says he doesn’t even know why. I know a girl, slightly messed up, like Allison, who hates her parents. I’ve heard about a boy whose parents are awful and who has been smoking pot since sixth grade, and in a town with this much money, princesses are not difficult to locate. However, all of these students have their own depths and thoughts, as well as their own personal reasons for being the way they are. Also, there are plenty of students at Paperclip who, while fitting archetypes, would not click directly into those of the movie.

In other news, Harry has reached an acceptable level of conversation. He seems to have become acclimated to my general awkwardness, extreme paranoia, and tendency to fall over. We even managed to bond over out inability to remember the names of freshmen. However, Harry will probably continue to avoid all eye contact in the hallway. Weird dude, I guess.

Day in Twenty Small Steps

1) Woke up

2) Got dressed, remembering to close door in case visitors were awake

3) Had cereal for breakfast, just like I do every other day of the year

4) Drove to high school for PSAT/NMSQTs

5) Parked a mile away from the building because I was afraid that staff parking still gets ticketed on Saturdays

6) Went to testing room with Nyx, Kathrya, Gretchen, Julie, and others, and spent an hour filling out the identification form

7) Freaked out about not having a non-mechanical pencil

8) Took test using mechanical pencil anyways

9) Finished twenty minutes early, got proctor's attention, and told him that he was planning on giving us 35 minutes for a 25 minute section

10) Watched the people in speedier classrooms leave through window in doorway

11) Lunch with Nyx

12) Watched first TV show in two weeks, the episode of America's Next Top Model from the week before last

13) Piano lesson

14) Babysat neighbors

15) Called mother and asked her to bring me fuzzy socks because mine got wet and my feet were cold

16) Was mildly disappointed that the hot older brother of said neighbors didn't call again

17) Did math packets until I was too cold and tired to continue

18) Watched Legally Blonde to distract myself from the cold

19) Convinced father of neighbors to only walk me to the end of his driveway, thus ending the awkward conversations during the walk to my house

20) Wrote blog post

To New York

Yesterday, I drove the pickup truck to the station. I felt very cool despite the fact that it was rainy and I couldn't open my windows and feel that breeze in my hair. I got there, parked successfully, and walked under the tunnel to the other side. The only person there was Helga, so I said I and we made a little bit of small talk until Melissa showed up. We made more small talk, wondering where everyone else was, until Melissa looked over my shoulder and said, "Is that Mario? It think it's Mario. It has the swagger." Mandeep refers to this swagger as the "awkward walk," but I suppose it could go either way.

We ended up walking over there, and as a group of seven people (eight if you count Jess, who was sitting awkwardly on a bench with her mother about three feet away), we achieved a profoundly awkward silence.

Once we got onto the train, we ended up in smaller groups (I sat in a four-seater with Mario, Irving, and Melissa). Irving worked his magical ability to make conversation. Whenever a gap got too long he'd fill it with questions like "oh, Mario, how do you like World?" (he's dropping it) or "So how's your lit-x paper?" (Melissa is reading Anna Karenina (which autocorrects to Keratin, which I was learning about in cyto this week omg!)) or "What did I miss in orientation?" (I don't know, I was at a different one). He also made a sending-or-receiving joke directed at Mario which Mario actually chuckled at. I think that if anyone other than Irving had made the joke, he'd have gotten angry, but since Mario wants to be Irving, he deals with it.

The one thing I wished I'd had on the train ride was something to fiddle with. Irving took out his A.P. Environmental notes to 'study' but didn't read them at all. Melissa had her cell phone, and texted and talked simultaneously. Mario spent the entire hour playing with a little black mechanical pencil, turning it in his hand, spinning the eraser, sliding the lead in and out, etc. I just had to stare into space over Melissa's shoulder when the conversation wore thin, because I had to be careful to avoid Sean, who, of course, showed up again. He won't be there next week though, so that at least is good.

Orientation

for SHP (which is back on! Wooot!)

In the morning, Mom dropped me off at the station. I waited by myself for a while, pacing in figure eights (or infinity signs) primarily out of boredom. Then, I looked over towards the station. I wasn't wearing my glasses, so everything looked a bit blurry, but I saw someone who looked a lot like Cormac. I tilted my head sideways and squinted, trying to decide if it was him or not. He turned his head sideways to imitate me, so I figured it must be him and said hello. It turns out he's taking a theater class on Saturdays until January, so he'll be on the train most mornings, which is most definitely good news. It's amazing how much faster the rides feel when you're talking to somebody.

I took a cab by myself from the station, since Archie and Helga had taken the earlier train for fear of being late. I was still early, though, so I went and got a delicious cranberry muffin from Nussbaum and Wu, the only deli I've ever been to that sells both sushi and baked goods. I went to Pupin to get my class assignment (cytoskeleton, which Melissa is in as well) and checked a few other people's (Ariadne is in nano, Irving in complex calculus, and Mario in psych) before heading to the orientation for returning students. I found Allana, a friend from last year, who was sitting in the back along with a bunch of Asian guys and one white guy who looked vaguely familiar but I couldn't remember the name of so introduced myself to anyways. We laughed about the ridiculous number of lost looking Asian kids with maps running around outside looking for Havemeyer. Then, the actual speech started.

I paid attention for the first few minutes until I heard the signature four beeps my phone makes upon getting a text message. I then spent five minutes digging through my bag for my phone before I found it and opened it up. I had a new message from Caleb. "Is that you in front of me? I think it is, but I don't want to awkwardly say hi to someone I don't know." I turned around and waved at him before unsuccessfully attempting to continue to listen to the lecture.

Sighting

Now that OFM is over, I am going to have to continuously struggle to prevent myself from simply using this blog as a medium to record Mario sightings and the various short, pointless conversations that ensue.

In fabulous news, I made pit orchestra for Guys and Dolls! I'm so excited. I'm sharing the piano part with Harry (I'd apparently nicknamed him already. Who knew?). I'll have to talk with him to decide who gets to play what. Getting him to talk should be interesting to say the least. He isn't exactly gregarious. The whole "I'm now going to have to talk to this guy I don't know" situation reminds me of last year, when I first started taking the train with Mario and was regularly freaking out over how awkward it was.

Also, I've begun studying SAT words. My word for today is disparage, which means belittle. For instance, after hearing that Rachel was going to the dance with Mario, I made many disparaging comments about her, trying to make her seem less important.

My funny story is actually from a few days ago. Actually, I lied, it was only yesterday. I was walking with Avon and someone else (I think it was Red, but that doesn't really make sense, since she isn't in Spanish, so it may have actually been someone else, but I really think that it wasn't Julie or Gretchen, and I'm not sure who else I would have been walking with, since it was definitely a girl) after Spanish. We were headed towards the bridge. I had my weird Mario-is-nearby sensor go off a little bit, but I assumed it was a false positive (considering the fact that it hasn't been wrong yet, I should probably stop doing that). Then I realized that I had a physics test next period and was walking in the wrong direction. I did a 180 and headed back towards the stairs and lo and behold, Mario was actually behind me. We both said hi, I passed him, and then about a millisecond later, I ran head on into a senior girl who gave me a very dirty look.

Journal Highlights

1/31/08

Well... today in English Ms. Seltzia read aloud a page of Girl in Hyacinth Blue that basically described sex using musical metaphors. I, for one, was giggling like crazy. Gretchen, unfortunately, was too busy ignoring me to catch my eye, but it was still funny. Also, we discussed vocab tests and how we study. Jess goes "I IM with Tybalt then print out the conversations. That helps a lot." and the teacher goes "really?" and the class takes a couple of seconds to process this before a low ooooh! broke out, and we started laughing. And Jess is like, "it helps! really!" and blushes a bit. Then the teacher goes, "there's definitely a bit of pink in her complexion." By that point, Tybalt was extremely red as well, and attempting to laugh it off, but in an extremely awkward way.

3/6/09

I feel stressed. Let the stress flow from the ache in my stomach and heart, through my shoulder, down my elbow, jetting down the rest of my fingertips and flowing to the tip of my pen, where the dark of ink releases it from my body.

That's a bit better.

11/7/08

Back to SHP tomorrow. Mario's a db. It wouldn't bother me much, generally, but I'm far more attracted to him than I should be, and can't bare to just blow him off, but something just makes me want to slap him, huge pores and all. I am desperately hoping that we reach some level of conversation by June, or I swear to a possibly existing deity, I will cry.

11/18/08

Today was the drawing field trip to the Met....blah blah blah etc. At the end of the trip, Mom told us to meet her at the temple. Me and Gemma were with her, so it was no biggie, but everyone else was late. Mom was so worried. She thought that she was such an awful chaperone, they'd never let her come on a trip again. By the way, it's requiring a colossal amount of effort not to mention Mario right now. That boy has somehow managed to insinuate himself into my thoughts, and it is somewhat aggravating AND I can't talk about him, because Nyx always laughs and GAH!

1/14/o9

I'm glad I don't have to come-of-age twice. Seriously, though, I always feel like I'm a character in some sort of book. Currently I'm in the midst of a classic tale in a high school, with a science and feminism subplot. I'm also in the exposition of another imaginary romance, but right now, I mostly just feel myself growing up. It feels like I'm too self aware.

Punchline

A brief English class transcript

Tea: Richard! You were in my dream this weekend!

Richard: I was?

Tea: Yeah, you were trying to kill me.

Richard: Oh. Well, dreams do come true sometimes.

Tea: *Laughs awkwardly.*

Richard: *walks away*

Tybalt (Bryant's twin): Ow!

Tea: Hahaha! Gemma, look, Dino hit Tybalt in the head with a book!

Tybalt: What was that for?

Dino: I missed

Tea: That was definitely an untethered projectile

Gemma: Haha, what?

Tea: ASR joke. There is no one from ASR in this class, so it wasn't really funny...

Gemma: Oh.

Mrs. Leon: Okay, we have cows, but they aren't our cows.

Tybalt: I told Dino that, but he didn't listen.

Dino (with computer on desk): Heh.

Caroline: Can I have a cow now?

Tampons

Awkward conversation with my 12 year old sister, Shelby. Be prepared for graphic discussion of female anatomy.

S:Tea?

T:Yes?

S: I'm trying to use a tampon

T: okay...

S: I'm having trouble.

T: You just take the tampon and stick it up there. It's not that hard.

S: Yes it is! I can't find the up there!

T: What?

S: I can't find the hole!

T: Urgh. I was trying to read Questionable Content.

S: Sorry.

T: No, it's fine. I'll draw you a picture.

*tea grabs paper and pen*

T: You know where your vagina is, right.

S: Uhhh.....down there?

T: *sigh* Where does the blood come out?

S: In between the foldy things?

T: Gaaaahhh.

*draws picture of two squiggly things with some holes in between them*

T: Okay. Those are the labia.

S: They look like snakes.

T: Psh. Okay, that's the clit.

S: Ummm.

T: You don't know what that is. I suppose you'll learn eventually.

S: Okay.....

T: look, that ones where the pee comes out. That's the vagina.

S: Wait- the pee doesn't come out on the bottom?

T: No, it does not.

S: Really? Cause I always thought that-

T: No, it doesn't.

S: I still don't understand how I'm supposed to fit a tampon up there.

T: It fits, alright?

S: But it's so small.

T: When you have a baby, it reaches 10 centimeters.

S: what?

T: this big.

S: EEEEWWWWWW

T: How else are you supposed to get a baby out? Honestly.

S: What about penises. How do people have sex?

T: (thinks: why am I the one teaching my little sister about sex. Shouldn't my mother be doing this? or her health teacher? or the internet, even, just something other than me?) says: When you're going to have sex, you make lubricant.

S: What's lubricant?

T: Slimy stuff.

S: Oh. How does that help?

T: I don't know, it just does. Do you think you can find your vagina on your own now?

S: Probably?

T: Good.

10 minutes later...

T: Shelby, you alright?

S: Yeah. It feels funny.

T: But you found it?

S: Yeah. It still feels weird though.

T: You'll get used to it.

*end conversation*

Well, at least I probably will not have to do that again until I have my own children.

Thank god.

Science Symposium

Well, the science symposium left me feeling like a socially stunted retard. I blame the fact that many of the other sophomores are not true science geeks, so I find them somewhat unrelatable. Also, both Julie and Mario weren't in attendance, which was highly unfortunate.

At one point, I was standing awkwardly by myself, looking at someone's poster, when Kerry comes over and is like, "Tea, want to see a totally awesome poster?" and I'm like, "Well, it beats standing around by myself. Not that I have no friends, it's just that Julie isn't here, and Minnie has better people to talk to, I guess." Well, that doesn't sound remotely pathetic. "Great!" "Whose poster?" "Lysander's."

So, Kerry leads me over to Lysander's poster. He starts talking about his project, which is actually even more boring than standing by myself, and Kerry immediately runs away, probably bored out of his mind. Lysander's poster was something about how cellphones affect driving, and it was boring enough that I would have rather listened to Mario talk about economics and stocks. It was actually boring enough that I would have rather listened to someone else talk about Mario's project on economics and the stock market, which is saying something. So, Lysander is talking to me, and his eyes aren't leaving my face AT ALL while he was talking, and I keep wanting to look at the poster instead, but he keeps looking at me, and I try to look away, but then I feel weird, because he's still looking at me and talking, and then I basically start internally panicking, because I'm not really that good at reading people, and his eye contact cues aren't fitting in with any of my stored information on what various looks mean, so as soon as Dad wanders over (actually only a minute after Lysander started talking), I mumble something about wanting water and bolt. I meant to say something to Kerry today about feeling badly, but then I forgot

Oh well.

Casual Fridays

Or, in my case, shoeless Fridays.

I just don't like wearing, shoes, okay? It isn't as if most people even notice, and when they do, they laugh, and think that I'm slightly insane, but whatever.

I did, however, wear shoes to the gala (which I went to with Nyx) last night. We had to conversations with other people while we were there. In the first, we ran into Kerry and Lysander.

Nyx and I walked up to them, Nyx started talking a bit, and I stood there kind of awkwardly, because the conversation wasn't really related to me at all. After a minute, give or take 45 seconds, she decided to introduce me.

"Oh, guys, this is Tea. Tea, this is Lysander."

"Hi, it's nice to meet you," I said.

"You too," he responded.

We both stood awkwardly for a moment while I tried to determine whether I should attempt a handshake, since his hands were full, but it felt rude to just stand there, so the silence dragged on for a bit, until Nyx opened her mouth to talk and Kerry and I interrupted simultaneously, him with "I know Tea already" and me with "I already know Kerry."

I checked out of the conversation at that point.

As we went up the stairs, we passed Ryan, Ida, and Cammie. I said, "Hi, hi, hi," my voice growing progressively higher pitched with each, and Ida, who was third, laughed.

"Hi, Tea."

"Hello," I replied, greeting her again, as Nyx and I continued up the stairs.

"Oh," Ida called, "are you wearing shoes?"

"Of course!"

"I don't believe it," said Cammie.

"Let me see," Ida ordered.

I swung my leg over the banister, flip-flop and all. "See? Shoe!"

"Good job."

Unfortunately, I think I managed to lose Nyx's socks at some point during this conversation, which I really do feel quite badly about.

---------

I leave you with my final essay using my midterm planning from Western Humanities, this essay about Historical Values.

During the Renaissance, they like Renaissance Men. This is because this era was horribly repressive towards women, so they didn't want to be Renaissance Women. Also, Renaissance Men knew a whole lot of stuff, like Da Vinci, who was awesome. As far as art goes, there was Michelangelo, who spent years of his life on his back (painting a ceiling, of course). They were also really religious, so Michelangelo painted a lot of overly muscled angels. The government was decentralized, which is a big word, so should be used frequently in essays, so the church took up the decentralized slack with the powerful, decentralized pope, who did many powerful decentralized things, because decentralization is decentralizingly important.

In Rome, they were big on Pietas, which, unfortunately, has nothing to do with Tas flavored pie. They did their duty and had a big army, and the had Gravitas, which we still have too, since I have yet to float away. Gravitas is also exemplified in the Star Wars Storm Troopers, but I have no idea how, since I can't remember what Gravitas is, but it probably has something to do with their sick awesome artificial gravity. Dignitas is like dignity, but spelled wrong, according to my spell checker, and it caused fighting and class separation. This is why my eschewing of dignity and not wearing shoes is good and will end all fighting and class separation.

The End.

Creeper

Last night, after a month of electronic silence, Caleb and I instant messaged.

You may have heard of Caleb already. He is the Asian boy who, up until yesterday, I had never actually met. He accidentally friended me on facebook, and we proceeded to talk. A lot.

Here is a transcript of our first conversation:

Tea: Would it be awful for me to say that I don't know who you are?

Caleb (C): SHP. And I don't really know you either. But the impersonality of facebook will compensate.

T:hmmmm.....okay!

what class are you taking?

C:Organic chem

T:oooooh. I haven't got anywhere near the necessary patience/interest for that one.

C:.Aren't you in organic chem?

T:no, i'm in neurobiology. Is there someone named tea in organic chem?

C:Weren't you in the group "Organic Chem @ Columbia"?

T:no. I'm in the Columbia SHP group, but that's it

C:Okay...Maybe i am delusional.Which happens a lot. Alright, if i see you i'll say "hi" And you'll be like "Who the freak is that?"

T:Oh great- now whenever someone says hi to me on saturday, I'll have to say "who the freak is that." I'll offend anyone who isn't you. If you had some recognizable pictures online, at least I'd have a stab at facial recognition (or cognition, since I haven't seen you before)

C:I suppose u can analyze my fifth grade pic. Add glasses, longer hair, 2 feet, and 50 pounds.

T: so, someone with glasses and a very odd expression on their face. Got it. Although I can't get height from the pic. can I get at least an approximation?

C: 6'. But i won't be there is saturday.. PSATs I am so excited!!!!!!

And after not being there on saturday, we had a long chain of not being there at the same time, and we never ACTUALLY saw each other. We'd instant messaged a lot, then we had a month of silence, then, abruptly, last night, he said that he wanted to meet up. So, he said he'd text me tomorrow.

Lo an behold, the next day, he texted me while I was on the train with Mario. I told Mario the story about Caleb, and Mario's immediate response was to tell me not to meet him in private. I responded by telling him that I wasn't a complete imbecile, and Mario told that he should hide nearby and I should devise a codeword, and, in the event that he turned out to be a complete creep, I could say the code word, and Mario would come out, and we would beat Caleb up with a pipe. I have no idea where Mario got an imaginary pipe from, but we eventually decided that he would just stand nearby.

So, after going to Starbucks, Mario's second home, we stood by the visitors' center/library and waited for Caleb, who eventually showed up.

C: Hi.

T: Hi. This is Mario. I brought him along for safety purposes.

M: Hi.

C: Hi.

T: It's nice to know that you actually exist, but it's odd to see you as an actual person.

C: Yeah.

*silence* *Tea giggles into her coffee*

T: We should, um, probably go to class.

C: Yeah, okay. Bye.

T: Bye.

Tea and Mario watch Caleb walk away.

T: Well, that was awkward.

C: Yeah.

Tea and Caleb then parted ways, and Tea called Nyx on the phone and told her the story while laughing madly in the elevator by herself. Good times.

Lab Partner

This takes place last weekend, after class ended. Siya, the teacher, dismissed everyone, and the other eleven kids raced towards the door. I, per usual, had to pack up my bag. Rube, my lab partner, had already slung his backpack over his shoulder and started out.

"Ahh! Rube, wait for me," I called.

"Okay, okay."

I resumed packing my bag before glancing over my shoulder at him. His head was all of a foot behind me, and I, expecting him further back, promptly panicked. "Eeep! too close."

He moved over to my other side, granting me a few more inches of space. "Better?"

"Much." We walked out the door and down the hall to the elevator, following another sophomore whom I've never actually heard talk. Right when the doors started to close, we heard running footsteps and a yelled, "wait!"

Quiet boy reached for the *door open* button, but not fast enough. The door closed, and he said "Damnit," but entirely without passion, and resumed staring silently at the door. I found the entire situation hysterical and began giggling madly, falling back against the wall of the elevator.

We reached the bottom, got out, and kept talking. Rube made some relation of the situation to someone named Optimus Prime.

"Who's that? Did he invent prime numbers or something?" I asked.

"No," Rube said, looking at me concernedly.

"So he's a Roman emperor then?"

"No..."

I frowned. "I give up."

"It's a Transformer!"

"A what?"

"A robot in disguise. How do you not know the names of the transformers?"

"I didn't watch transformers. I watched Totally Spies."

"Totally Spies? How is that a show?"

"It's a bunch of girls who do spy stuff and go shopping."

"Well, that makes sense," Rube said sarcastically.

"It's not as if they make any more sense than transforming robots."

At this point, the guy who had missed the elevator caught up. He glared at us. "Douchebags."

"Um, sorry?" Before we could finish filling him in on the conversation, he broke off in another direction and my cell rang, playing Mozart. I answered it, unsurprised that Sean was on the other end.

Rube ignored the interruption. "Is that seriously your ringtone? Hah!"

"Shut up! No, Sean, not you! I can't hear you anyways. What?" I asked. Rube pulled a weird face. "Stop it! No, Sean, not you. We're by this big flag on a stick. It's like, really tall."

"Flaaaahhhg-pole" Rube said, exaggeratedly.

I rolled my eyes at him. "Yes, whatever, it's a flagpole. And there's, like this building."

"Liii-braar-yyy," Rube helpfully supplied.

"The library. No, not the actual library, the one that says it is but isn't."

"Viiiiisiiiiitooor's center"

"It's definitely not a visitors center! Wait, no, Sean, not you, I can't really hear right now-" Rube was laughing "-but I'll meet you at the fountains, okay? Okay, okay, bye."

Rube was in hysterics. "You didn't even let him respond. You're just like, 'Okay, okay, bye!'"

I shrugged. "He'll find me. Then I'll be stuck on a train with him for an hour." I gave my monologue about how annoyingly awkward the train rides always are, and by that point, we had walked past the fountain, over to one entrance, turned around and gone to the other entrance, when I said I really should go to the fountain, so Rube said "okay," and we both turned around and walked back towards it.

His response to my future awkwardness was to quote a Simpsons episode in which the family is seated with someone they don't particularly want to talk to. A basic transcript below:

*silence*

-I wonder what speed the fan is set at-

-wanna guess?-

-no-

*silence*

someone looks at the switch and says -it's on medium-

*silence*

-I would have guessed low-

-Well, you would have guessed wrong-

-oh-

*silence*

Then Sean showed up, Rube left, and we all lived happily ever after.