End of the Fatzone

Well, I said I was going to blog, so I'm feeling this compulsion to, well, actually blog. But at the same time, life feels rather boring, and I don't feel as if I have much to say.

I had a bizarre dream last night. I was on the rag, but I still definitely has sex (should be noted that I only remember the aftermath but not not the actual activity) with my dream-boyfriend, who was super attractive and very innocent looking but actually a prostitute. Then he became friends with my mom. I woke up, and my first thought was "holy *expletive* I didn't use a condom and I'm going to get an STD." My second thought was "oh, that was a dream." My third was "damn, he was attractive, too." Then I pressed the sleep button and I can't remember much else.

Math was fun, I guess. I like hard problems, the the one we did--the sum, from n=1 to n=44 of cos n/ sin n--was definitely difficult, at least for me. Gretchen seems to have permanently ditched us, though--Nyx overheard her suggesting to Dino that he could either pull up a desk or "sit with them." And, well, that stings, quite a bit, particularly since whenever she does bother to be with us she's perfectly wonderful. I know she's on some campaign to get Clara to go to college with her, but that doesn't make it sting any less.

The obesity presentation went fine, I think. I hope we do well, if only because I'd rather not get beaten. Plus, well, a little bit of money would be nice. A little bit of money is really always quite nice.

Brian apparently just asked Nyx if she used to date Tamir. I'm too busy laughing to finish writing this.

Super Hot Physics

AKA learning about stars...at SHP! (am I clever or what?).

I took the train in with Clara, who is by far the calmest person I know about college decisions (well, it might be close on Kathrya, but she is nonetheless very chill). This is in marked contrast to my own behavior...which we're going to try not to think about. Because if I don't write it down, it didn't happen.

For your entertainment, I've compiled some quotes by my astro professor:

"The moon looks like a barren Italy...sort of like Afghanistan. I mean, really, why is anyone fighting over that place? Its three major food groups are metamorphic, igneous, and sedimentary."

"Fools and Galileo do not suffer each other gladly."

"The Galileo spacecraft looks like someone put it together with an erector set while drunk."

"Atoms are like tuning forks."

"Thermal physics is kind of like Sweden."

"So, if I assume that the sun is made of doughnuts, I can use this assumption to calculate its lifetime."

"Rivers are instrumental to the gradual destruction of life as we know it."

The Difficulty of Remembrance

Delayed my train by 23 minutes. Quite a nuisance (though I hope whoever was unwell has improved). This, of course, meant that we got stuck behind a local train, which in turn meant that I was really, really late to class.

Which I care about. Clara and Helga care less, so I bid them goodbye at the campus gate and proceeded at a very brisk walk, mostly because I couldn't take another minute of not talking. As I was approaching Pupin, I heard the slapping sound of someone running in flip-flops and thought to myself "well, at least I'm not as hurried as whoever that is."

Moments later, a slightly breathless (which means he was probably running for a good while) Rube pulled up (yes, I'm using vehicular terminology) next to me.

"Hey," he said.

I blinked. "Hi."

"I'm late."

"Me too."

"I woke up really early, and I assumed that my parents were going to make me breakfast, so I lay down on the couch for a few minutes--"

I wished that I didn't know what his couch looked like, that my mental picture was less vivid.

"--And then I woke up, and it was 9:47," he continued. "So I got a cab, and here I am."

"There was a medical emergency on the train. Before I got there."

"I didn't eat breakfast."

"Oh."

We continued walking, his pace slightly faster than mine, because my shoelace was undone and I didn't particularly want to stop long enough to fix it. I looked down.

"Your feet must be freezing," I said, because, as I'd thought from the sound, he was be-sandaled (yes, that's a word).

"Eh."

"My toes would be blue. Or purple. Probably purple."

"When they go numb I can't feel it."

I believe I snorted. Let us pretend that it was a lady-like snort.

Anyways, we eventually got inside, and I went for the elevator, to which he said "elevator, really?" and I said "I'm on the thirteenth floor" and he said "reasonable, then."

Because it is reasonable. Eight flights of stairs is a lot.

He entered the elevator with me, even though he didn't need to. He'd held the door, too, when we entered the building. I can't think when that trait stopped annoying me when present in males. Perhaps when I realized that there are better outlets for feminism.

I flopped against the wall of the elevator, and he did the same, against the other. I realized, abruptly, that we were alone, and then, just as suddenly, that he wasn't wearing a hat. It was messy, too long, curling while flat against his head in that horribly adorable way, and I wanted--I squelched the thought.

"I'm sleepy," I said, though I wasn't.

"I'm not," he responded, as the elevator stopped for him. I stood in the elevator by myself as it rose the last six floors.

I walked out, across the hall, stood in the bathroom, alone. I began to laugh, perhaps just because of how fittingly him the exchange was, but also because I didn't need it. It was interesting, yes, fine, good, but uncomfortable. More comfortable than that last night, but not something I wanted more of.

I'm trying to reclaim the music he sent me. I went down to the beach last night, after leaving Cammie's. I played the Los Campesinos song that is so much fun, You! Me! Dancing!, with its wonderful exclamation points. The one that I played whenever I missed him over the summer.

I stood on the cannons, the song loud, looking at the sky. I thought about him, briefly, but then about the stars. About the sky, about the world, about where I wanted to be and how, in a moment, in this chill cold air, I could just feel. I jumped from the cannons to the ground, then danced, as erratically as if I were drunk, down to the water, singing lines that felt right. I thrust my hands into the water, splashed it on my face, then twirled back up to my truck.

It sounds like a baptism, now. I'm going to call it that. A new beginning. A fresh start, not for him, not with him, but for me, for myself, with, well, anyone other than him.

I am made clean.

Honors List

Today, Gretchen came over, and we decided to combine our interests in gossip and academics to produce: The High Honors Predictions (Wood Knocking Enabled). This is also an opportunity for me to come up with lots of fun nicknames.

First, the top fifteen, also known as: Our Wonderful List, by Us.

1. Bryant, the somewhat smarter twin.

2. Tybalt, the other really smart twin.

3. Yuma, the Asian boy who likes to say "um." He is here because he is smart, and we like him.

4. Clara, who played Clara in the nutcracker and did very, very well on the math midterm and plays violin. We needed a girl on this list.

5. Julie. Because she is Julie.

6. Mario, because we like him more than

7. Livny. How we wish that he was stupider.

8. Brian. His first name is Avon's last name.

9. Jeff. Tierra is obsessed with him. However, he has taken a lot of journalism, which might pull down his GPA, but whatever.

10 and 11: Tea and Gretchen. Because we are awesome.

12. Avon or Natalie. They have the same first name, and we aren't really sure.

13. Sonny. The taller of the two workshop boys from Avon's elementary school.

14. Ariadne. Her dad gave a speech to our math class.

15. Nyx, because we love her. She's pretty good at school, too.

It'll be interesting to see if any of this rings true after another year and a half.

Also, I've been taking art classes at the art center in a nearby town. My teacher has a porno-stache, and it creeps me out a lot.