Before you even get started -- I know, I'm a pathetic excuse for an older brother, not fit to walk in your shadow, I should have come back this cycle as a slug only that's disgusting and you'd never deign to be related to a slug, et cetera, et cetera. I should have written months ago, and I know it, and I'm sorry. I was expecting to take a few weeks to get my bearings -- feel the ground under me, so to speak? Only I'm starting to think that the ground never settles in college, and you're constantly having to move at a slow jog, at the very least, if you don't want to get swept up and bowled over. Or maybe it's this college in particular; hard to be sure, without any point of comparison. I just know this isn't what the brochure and "Revenge of the Nerds" movies said it would be.
I haven't decided yet if it's better or worse, though.
Okay, enough groveling. Obviously, I survived the train trip after dropping our no-good parents off at the airport. (Aside: remind me to talk about the care package later.) So far, I have not: been beaten up by any jocks, flashed by any sorority girls, subjected to terrifying hazing rituals, helped to get anyone killed via alcohol poisoning, stolen any team mascots, nor played any wacky pranks on faculty or staff. Disappointing, isn't it? I've also, knock on wood, not been subjected to any surprise "visits" from (read: been forced to obtain a second restraining order against) Miss V. Yeah, I'm not disappointed by that bit either. If I'm lucky, she's ended up throwing herself after some pretty-boy jock at Stanford and she's forgotten all about me. Or forgotten enough that she's not gonna come trying to win me back. One point for college!
Point two for college: classes don't suck. Nothing's really super-challenging yet, but I can see what some other people are doing and see where it'll go. Certainly it's not a perfect world of getting to pick everything you want to learn about and getting to ignore the rest, willy-nilly, and I'm sure I'll run into some truly sucktastic professors sooner than later -- the odds are just against me. But compared to the grinding gears of high school, this is practically the worker's utopia, and it didn't even require bloody revolution in the middle of a Russian winter to achieve. And before you ask, I've still no idea at all what I want to do with myself in the long term, and I'm quite content with that. Why the hell do I have to decide what I'm going to do with the rest of my life -now-? The way the world's changing, the way careers are going, it's not like it's going to be a single job I take that leads to a single narrow career that'll be what I do from now until they decide I'm old enough to retire. It's not a lack of commitment over here, despite what mom and dad think. It's...pragmatic. There's just too many things I want to do to shove myself into a neatly labeled box this early.
Point three: things are definitely not boring around here, I'll give it that. Hell, that's not even factoring in the crazy whirl that was the election and all the on-campus campaign stuff that was going on. Yeah, even I got sucked in...more on why later. Besides that, I've been busy embarrassing our poor father without his knowledge by joining the "Meridian Monkey Troupe" -- yes, that does indeed I'm singing. In public. No, it's not really the drama club, it's more...semi-impromptu guerrilla musical theatre. You know, like a tiny flash mob who can stay on key. Not that I've done much but be a Brechtian pimp for someone's audition piece, but there are plans afoot. I think. That, or I'll just hijack someone in a whale costume at some point and truly make an ass of myself. However it goes, it's been fun so far, and it's likely to stay that way.
Oh, and you'll love this one: apparently, campus is haunted! Namely, one of the dorms I'm not on is supposed to have ghosts. So far, I've just noticed people playing with the lights and singing bad folk songs on Halloween, myself. Far from what I'd call a visit from the other side, huh? A whole little group supposedly got together for a seance or a ghostbusting expedition or -something-, and supposedly some creepy stuff happened. No one I know real well was involved, so details are are as hazy as a magic 8-ball, but it definitely keeps the 'interesting' quotient up around here.
Let's see, what else in the 'broad overview' category...hrm. Food: not as terrible as high school cafeteria, but definitely not what I'd classify as haute cuisine. Accommodations: on the small side, with interesting company (getting to that too), but acceptable. Climate: Terrible. Really, only the Puritans could have landed on this miserable corner of the continent and decided that they should stay rather than, say, sailing further south in search of someplace that might actually be /pleasant/ to live in. I understand the urge to self-flagellate for your supposed sins as much as the next guy, but did they really have to inflict this cold on their sons and daughters, lo, down to seven times seven generations? And we're not even officially into Winter yet. I swear, come February, they're gonna be chipping bits off of me to make drinks because I'm going to be a giant icicle. I should check my Dante, and see exactly which level of Hell this is. At least if I knew, I could get in my sinning now.
Oh yes, speaking of sinning...calm down, I can already picture you covering your eyes and shouting "TMI!" I'm not going to share THAT much detail. But yes: there's a new girl. I think you might actually like this one, she's got a wicked knack for cutting me down to size when I need it. If you believe it, we actually met when I was out hunting for proper attire for the damn weather around here. She was also one of the big Obama campaigners on campus, which is how I got pulled into spending so much of my first two months here pretending to be a political animal. Since they didn't throw me out of the zoo, apparently I pretended just well enough.
To answer the questions before you even ask them: Her name's Dot (short for Dorothy), she's a semi-local girl, she's sharp as a knife, smart, fun, excellent taste in music, and a dervish on roller skates. First official date: Bands for Obama concert, with some truly awesome special guest bands. One 'psycho' ex of her own, but he's a special case. I really do think you'd like her, and not just for the tendency to poke holes in my so-suave act. I know -I- like her, which I assure you still is the important part whatever mom and dad may want to say about it.
And before you go thinking I'm blinded with lust: no, I don't think she's perfect. No one's perfect, after all. Funny story: the 'psycho' ex...turns out to be my roommate. Yeah, no one told me I was starting my own sitcom when I went away to college, either. Neither of us had a damn clue when we arranged that first date, and it nearly went...bad. I put psycho in quotes because he's not, but...well. He's not a bad guy, especially if you avoid the buttons, but the buttons are...let's just say he doesn't have issues so much as subscriptions, to steal a tired joke? But then, hell, who doesn't. And the two of them were apparently together for a -long- time. Like, I get the feeling she was the girl next door when he was growing up.
So there's drama, clearly. But so far there's been no attempts to break my nose, and he's even mostly backed off efforts to snidely and subtly badmouth her around me. Which I appreciate, since otherwise my nose would definitely be broken when I called him on it. Hell, the two of them are genuinely trying to be friends -- or at least, she's trying to be a friend for him. Yes, I can already see you looking skeptical, and no, I don't think this is code for her still being interested in him 'that way' and making her moves on the side while she keeps me strung along. I think the guy genuinely needs all the friends he can get, and that she knows him well enough to pull it off without letting him distract her with bullshit. You know someone that long, I can utterly understand there being feelings, and some sort of awkward friendship thing when your families are friends has to be better than spitty hate and constant drama, right?
Oh. Yeah, heh, funny story: guess who's voluntarily attending the most fucked-up Thanksgiving ever? Yeah, that'd be me! So, the roommate -- Hemi, by the way (and yes, it's a nickname) -- invited me up to his shindig when he found out our lousy parents are still going to be out of the country. Sweet, but we haven't exactly done a huge lot of bonding, to be honest (with the hot girlfriend in the way and all). So I put myself down as a maybe, and then chatted with Dot about the holiday next time I saw her. Not thinking I was going to get an invite -- I'm not that mercenary -- but I figure, we're in college, we're dating, I should at least CHECK to see what her plans are. Seems that, in the meantime, family plans had been worked out...and Dot's Thanksgiving is Hemi's Thanksgiving. It's one big turkey eating it's own tail. I'm expecting awkward silences, a lot of family on both sides giving me grief for being the terrible foreign usurper, and hopefully some good food. I'm also a little worried about Dot, but...fuck.
Okay, side note: I don't know if I should be worried about Dot or not. Okay, I know I should be for drama in general, but either I've picked up the clumsiest girlfriend I've ever had -- which seems unlikely, 'cause she's damn graceful on those skates -- or...or I'm dancing around causing an after-school special. If I'm even right, I don't know if she's even noticed I've noticed, or how to start talking about it, or if I should? It's...yeah. Heh. Sometimes, when I'm briefly delusional, I think I could bring it up with Hemi. And then I get a clue and remember that's probably a terrible damn idea and shove it back in the box.
Anyway, on that distressing and worrisome note, I should wrap this up and head out. Thanks to DramaFest 2008, I'm not sure exactly what my schedule is like since it's kinda out of my hands unexpectedly. If I -can-, I'll swing by to visit this weekend. If not, I promise, I'll see you next. Either way, make them feed you some turkey this weekend, and know that I love you as always, brat. I'll share the rest of the freaky gossip when I see you in person.
Hugs and smoochy big brother kisses,
PS: I burned you another mix. This one's just stuff that's percolated to the top of my play lists of late. I expect you to read NOTHING into the scattering of super-sappy romantic drivel, and simply enjoy the music.( Mix Tape!Collapse )