(no subject)
I'm still here, although it may come a a surprise to some. I knew the surprise party was for me (we all love that grapevine) and I'm very sorry I couldn't make it. I'll explain eventually. Things are going okayish here I suppose. I've been sick and no one's managed to figure out exactly why, but I'm booking some more health and counselling appointements before I go home so things have to start looking up, I'm convinced.
PLUS, I'm going home in three more sleeps and I feel like some time away from Bigelow could be energizing, not because I'm thrilled at the idea of being in the company of my parents and brother but because it'll be good to look forward to coming back here so I won't take it for granted and, more importantly, I'm betting I'll get to see at least some of you fine people. I miss the boy ridiculously and he's been way too good through all of this. I keep expecting him to stop calling because all I've done for weeks is yell at him and then cry, but he's waiting it out. Must be a better person than I am. And he's now submitted his application to come here for second semester for Commerce, which would make things infinitely easier, too. Midterms are the spawn of Satan. I've been writing them since October 3rd and my last one is November 9th. I may need to borrow the cricket bat before the end of this.
I got through Donnie Darko without passing out last week. Good times, but it reminds me too much of Amber to be an experience completely devoid of heartache.
Amy Ascah Anderson is a true romantic.
I saw three flurries of snow during the rain on Thursday, which means I'm falling behind in my efforts to befriend Hamilton Carveau of Jennings Hall; however, I have three different connections to him: Meghan (Fischback, who lives in our house now) sings with him in the Choral Society in which he is a COUNTER TENOR (hardcore falsetto, apparently), Don Matt knows him from way back, and Blair is now working with him at meal hall (I'm trying to convince him to have a poker night for his 'wrok friends' in his room so I can meet my favourites). It'll happen soon so I can let him know that the jig is up--he is far too well-dressed and hair-slicked to ever be straight--and that, more importantly, I am convinced that with a name such as his, he is clearly destined to star on a soap opera rather than study here and work in food service. It shall be a good day.
Last night I went to Greco for garlic fingers and about half our house tagged along. Then it got weird when Cameron Hall walked in. He was at PVEC for grade ten and I haven't seen him since. He's at Dal now and is here for the weekend and had met my infinitely drunken next door neighbour (tragically Irish and name Conor to boot--we're talking Conan O'Brien here) and decided to split a pizza with him. Strange times at Mount Allison.
Anyway, the actual reason I was updating at all:
If you read this, if your eyes are passing over this right now, even if we don't speak often, please post a comment with a memory of you and me. It can be anything you want, either good or bad. I swear I won't kick your ass and feed you to my pet snail. When you're finished, post this little paragraph on your blog and be surprised (or mortified) about what people remember about you.
Do it? Everyone? Pleeeeease? I'll return the favour and I have a fabulous, photographic memory, so I'm sure to come up with something good.
I should go locate some friends and some dining hall slop so I can actually wake up and get dressed (yes, I do in fact realize it's 5:00, but hey, I'm exhausted and ill) before the fancy-shmancy concert tonight. Someone should call me and scream at me to do work, which I never, ever do, by the way, very soon. I'd better see you all soon because I bet you'll all be home.
Love, Janet