Coming Home

I'm back! Well, not quite yet. But today. Awesome. Ugh. Can't wait. I need to finish my last essay before I leave, so I'd better get on that.

Crazy Person

If my roommates could hear and see what happens in my room, I'm fairly sure they'd think I'm insane. I've gotten alot better at handling being alone, but I've developed some pretty odd survival mechanisms to do so. For instance, if I'm reading a book, I will comment loudly to myself about the content. And when I watch TV, I'm prone to fits of giggling, after which I explain to the empty room why I found it so amusing/adorable/awkward.

This morning, I had a very interesting phone call. I answered it, but no one spoke. I thought I heard my mother say my aunt's name in the background, but mostly it was muffled phone-being-handled noises. And then, while I was plaintively calling "Hello...?", I heard drums and singing. Like bongos and such - very Mr. Byronesque. It was the weirdest thing. I though maybe someone was trying to send me a coded message. If they were, I hope it wasn't an emergency because I couldn't decipher it, and I went back to bed.

Hot Chocolate and Remorse

The campus Christian group was giving out free hot chocolate in front of the library today. I didn't have any. When I reflected on this, I realized it was because I wasn't Christian, and I didn't want their Christian beverage. This seemed to be really stuck-up to me, especially because I partake in their Christian holidays, so I reflected more.

I'll never be Christian. That being said, no Christian has ever been mean to me specifically. In fact, I have many Christian friends! GOOD FRIENDS! Friends who I respect in every way, including their religion.

So I felt really really bad, especially in light of the date. Intolerance has no place in my world.

(In case you didn't know, today is the National Day of Remembrance and Action on Violence Against Women. This date is the anniversary of the l'École Polytechnique de Montréal massacre, where 14 women died simply because they were women.)

If only I were taller, I'd see past the clutter and plan an escape

Ok, so last week I handed in an english paper on time. I'm fairly certain I did a crappy job in order to do so, and evidently it's been dogging my unconscious, as I had a dream we got our papers back, mine kicked ASS, and everyone else failed. (I'm a nice person.)

Today, I got a different paper back.
IT KICKED ASS.

So my dreaming mind was right about that, just not the subject of the paper.

TTFN,

Forever yours,

W.