I have dropped off the face of the earth.
Psych, not yet. Pretty close, though! I went back to school since we last spoke, and I've been here a couple weeks. How weird. My last few days in my hometown were quite nice, lots of quality times with friends and at home being warm and having access to a dishwasher.
Then I got back to school, and man. Still quality time with friends (more on that later), but my apartment? Freezing. Abso-fricking-lutely freezing. When I sleep, I wear a long-sleeved shirt and PJ pants and cuddle up in a blanket before slipping under my three additional layers of blanket. I wear long underwear around the place, and for most of today, I was wearing two full-blown hoodies. They were supposed to fix the effing radiators in the last week of November. I cannot feel my toes, or any pleasure with anyone right now.
In the interests of over-sharing, I also spilled almost a whole mug of tea on my bed today. Never before have I felt so betrayed by a beverage.
But in more cheerful news, I will no longer be looking for an apartment on my own next year! I had pretty much resigned myself to the concept, except for the fact that it made me absolutely miserable and I was in stubborn denial. So maybe l exaggerated the 'resigned' claim. Anyways, there are three wonderful and lovely girls in my program (well, probably more than three, but I have a specific trio in mind), and I was sort of insinuating myself into their lives over the course of the last few weeks of first semester. Well, that was just in time to hear about their plans for cozy domesticity with each other next year, which (not wanting to be on my own and too late to snatch them up) kind of made me deflate a bit. Never one to be discouraged, I was even more blatant with Operation Remora in the first week of second semester, basically spending all my free time with them in a kind of desperate manner. But hey, it worked! They all asked me if I'd like to live with them next year, and I manfully restrained myself from jumping around doing a victory dance.
It was a close call, though. My restraint was *holds fingers close together* thiiiiis close to breaking.
That was last week, and I feel like I owe you a story from this week, too. Well, I also feel like whining. Because my apartment is effing freezing, as we have established (my roommate tried to tape the gaping gap in our doorjamb shut, and the tape froze into little clinky pieces), it's going to be a grumpy story from today. Roommate and her boyfriend moved here simultaneously from our hometown, and they're sort of ridiculously co-dependent. In a very sweet way, I have to admit. Her boyfriend's personality is that of an octagenarian, it's unironically, honestly awesome. Anyways, they're committed to both each other, and also committed to Being a Couple. Octagenarian Boy has made a whole gang of friends (well, four who I have met) at his school, and as of this week, they are all dating each other. See where this is going?
Yup. This means a triple date. And what better place for a triple date than my home? I didn't think I would mind, because I honestly like people,* but they're more couple-y than I had prepared myself for. So I went to Facebook to escape this imminent orgy in my apartment (dudes, I am the seventh wheel. Didn't know that was even possible), and got hit with some kid's status change celebrating his anniversary.
Fuck, my singleness is very epic. I insist, usually I do not mind. But tonight, I am cold, and grumpy, and listening to these happy people shrieking with laughter ("Are you building a ghetto?" indignantly. "I thought you wanted to be a Jew!" Then, "There's a tax for being poor?") and I just feel grumpy. I am a Debbie Downer.
In closing, I had a whole rant about the use of 'myriad' as a noun planned (because it really is one of my pet peeves), but I learned something new instead! Hay j00 guyz, did you know 'myriad' can be an adjective or a noun? Apparently it stems from Olde Tymes, when 'myriad' was an actual number (specifically 10,000), and just continued on from there. Trippy, man. That actually really improved my mood, go figure. I usually hate being wrong, but maybe this means the 'a myriad of ways to be cruel' construction won't bother me anymore! And that would be grand.
OH! And I have guests in town. More on that later, I guess, next time I need to escape social interaction as well as escape schoolwork (Pretentious Arts essay on Monday, profanity-profanity).
*New favorite thing! Sorry I'm so up-and-down, but speaking of positive things in humanity reminded me that Fifty People, One Question is beautiful, and I'm going to pimp it out to anybody who might pay attention.
Then I got back to school, and man. Still quality time with friends (more on that later), but my apartment? Freezing. Abso-fricking-lutely freezing. When I sleep, I wear a long-sleeved shirt and PJ pants and cuddle up in a blanket before slipping under my three additional layers of blanket. I wear long underwear around the place, and for most of today, I was wearing two full-blown hoodies. They were supposed to fix the effing radiators in the last week of November. I cannot feel my toes, or any pleasure with anyone right now.
In the interests of over-sharing, I also spilled almost a whole mug of tea on my bed today. Never before have I felt so betrayed by a beverage.
But in more cheerful news, I will no longer be looking for an apartment on my own next year! I had pretty much resigned myself to the concept, except for the fact that it made me absolutely miserable and I was in stubborn denial. So maybe l exaggerated the 'resigned' claim. Anyways, there are three wonderful and lovely girls in my program (well, probably more than three, but I have a specific trio in mind), and I was sort of insinuating myself into their lives over the course of the last few weeks of first semester. Well, that was just in time to hear about their plans for cozy domesticity with each other next year, which (not wanting to be on my own and too late to snatch them up) kind of made me deflate a bit. Never one to be discouraged, I was even more blatant with Operation Remora in the first week of second semester, basically spending all my free time with them in a kind of desperate manner. But hey, it worked! They all asked me if I'd like to live with them next year, and I manfully restrained myself from jumping around doing a victory dance.
It was a close call, though. My restraint was *holds fingers close together* thiiiiis close to breaking.
That was last week, and I feel like I owe you a story from this week, too. Well, I also feel like whining. Because my apartment is effing freezing, as we have established (my roommate tried to tape the gaping gap in our doorjamb shut, and the tape froze into little clinky pieces), it's going to be a grumpy story from today. Roommate and her boyfriend moved here simultaneously from our hometown, and they're sort of ridiculously co-dependent. In a very sweet way, I have to admit. Her boyfriend's personality is that of an octagenarian, it's unironically, honestly awesome. Anyways, they're committed to both each other, and also committed to Being a Couple. Octagenarian Boy has made a whole gang of friends (well, four who I have met) at his school, and as of this week, they are all dating each other. See where this is going?
Yup. This means a triple date. And what better place for a triple date than my home? I didn't think I would mind, because I honestly like people,* but they're more couple-y than I had prepared myself for. So I went to Facebook to escape this imminent orgy in my apartment (dudes, I am the seventh wheel. Didn't know that was even possible), and got hit with some kid's status change celebrating his anniversary.
Fuck, my singleness is very epic. I insist, usually I do not mind. But tonight, I am cold, and grumpy, and listening to these happy people shrieking with laughter ("Are you building a ghetto?" indignantly. "I thought you wanted to be a Jew!" Then, "There's a tax for being poor?") and I just feel grumpy. I am a Debbie Downer.
In closing, I had a whole rant about the use of 'myriad' as a noun planned (because it really is one of my pet peeves), but I learned something new instead! Hay j00 guyz, did you know 'myriad' can be an adjective or a noun? Apparently it stems from Olde Tymes, when 'myriad' was an actual number (specifically 10,000), and just continued on from there. Trippy, man. That actually really improved my mood, go figure. I usually hate being wrong, but maybe this means the 'a myriad of ways to be cruel' construction won't bother me anymore! And that would be grand.
OH! And I have guests in town. More on that later, I guess, next time I need to escape social interaction as well as escape schoolwork (Pretentious Arts essay on Monday, profanity-profanity).
*New favorite thing! Sorry I'm so up-and-down, but speaking of positive things in humanity reminded me that Fifty People, One Question is beautiful, and I'm going to pimp it out to anybody who might pay attention.