Straight No Chaser

This Is the Dawning

i totally wish i worked a night shift, because at ten in the morning i'm just too damn sleepy to make existential observations about the world.

tomorrow, as you may know, is valentine's day. and we're celebrating it this year, which is momentous in an ironic way. after all, we've done everything else. it has been a good week, in that arena, which is good; at this stage of life, a good week bears ridiculously gigantic implications. he was nice to me on my birthday, he bought my ticket to "the vagina monologues," he came and sat through my "racial constructions of masculinity" class and made what i thought were insightful comments. clearly our love is real. clearly we're going to get married.

that is one part twenty-one-year-old self mimicking idealistic adolescent past self. two parts me actually fluttering, inside, at what a relatively good week this has been, and promises to be. i'm getting him some itunes and paying for dinner, and otherwise not spending any money on him tomorrow, because i don't need to do that to ensure that he has a great time. i've written him something. i'll make him something. gift him in other ways, and, excellent. it will be an excellent evening.

i think, i'm not sure but i think, that i have been watching "golden girls" for the past hour. or so. my circadian rhythm is really off, because of how much sleep i didn't get amid all the gratuitous hanging out we did. my roommate called me "emotionally spoiled," reasoning that anyone who spends so much time with her friends must have staggering, insatiable social needs. i didn't correct her, figuring it's none of her business that this has been an unprecedented semester, that the krystle-likes-od-or-does-she thing has pretty much shaped the social scene for all of us. nothing is any of her business, in fact. and i rather resent her passing judgment on my activities, when she's spent the last nine or ten days in pajamas not going to class. and when she's messier than i am, even, which is saying a lot. mine is creative clutter. hers is unfathomable filth in which she wallows, daily, lamenting her bad grades even as she exacerbates them further with her truancy.

but i digress. one of my new year's resolutions was to quit passing judgment on people, primarily because i don't know anything.

i hung fliers today. lots of them.

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