10.24.03, 11.09.03, and lots of days in between.

They actually just made an announcement regarding the fact that jokes about airline security may be deemed inappropriate and may result in arrest. I find that amusing.

I’m sitting on the floor behind the check-in desk of gate 20 at Bradley International Airport. I’m chillin’ on the floor because the only outlet near chairs is already in use. I just picked up two packs of cheese-and-peanut-butter crackers and water, which is breakfast…which is kind of a shame. I meant to hit up Mather before I left, since I won’t be using meals today or tomorrow, but my morning was just hectic enough to prevent that from happening.

First off, I didn’t even GET to sleep until a little after three. I hung out with Nate for a little bit and we talked, which was cool – he’s a neat guy, and I’m glad I’m getting to know him. Sleep was fitful, which is odd, considering my insane lack of it the past two days. My phone alarm went off at 8:15, but I went back to bed, because I’m a lazy bastard. I finally got my ass moving around 8:25, packed my computer and everything else, called around to try and find a ride, failed – confused the hell out of Mel, who I woke up…oops… - and finally wrangled me a cab. I got here, paid the man his exorbitant fee, got hung up at security because they’d never seen a nut tool before – and I’d quite forgotten I still had it in my bag – and now I’m here, enjoying my crackers and water and relative peace and quiet.

I just tried to open iTunes, which is an amazing program, but not when you aren’t plugged into some network, somewhere. Silly Mac software.

I find it entertaining that my spellchecker doesn’t recognize Nate’s name. I always thought it was a legitimate name…guess not. Neil is, though, so Neil should be glad we’ve changed it.

I’m sort of a collection of random and sometimes-witty thoughts. The idea of going home is exciting, and I’ve been looking forward to it since I left…but wow, it’s gonna be weird. I mean, I’ve been away for two months. In those two months, I’ve built a life for myself completely independent of everyone I’ve known for the last eighteen years. Yeah, I still talk to them and think of them and tell stories about them, but friends from home have been a very small part of my life, and that’s completely normal. I don’t know what I’d do if I were close to home or knew a lot of people there…going to Trinity, in a state where only three people from my entire class went, is different than going to UVA or Tech or VCU. And while I’m not one to rag on people at those schools, I rather like my gig. I don’t have to worry about high school politics or grudges or anything else entering into life unless I want them to…which I do, I guess, simply by virtue of keeping the friendships from which those politics and grudges sprung.

So you might be glad to know that the cold which has been threatening me for the last few days finally broke this morning, and me without my vitamin C drops. Well damn. But going back to what I was saying a minute ago…I’m going back today to the world of high school and everyone in it…for better or for worse…mostly better. I get to see old friends and teachers and the theatre and I might even be persuaded to go to the Homecoming game tomorrow to try and track down the people I don’t see tonight…maybe. I missed homecoming at Trinity ‘cuz I slept ‘till four last Saturday, and by that point pretty much the entire campus had passed out. And that’s fine…we apparently destroyed the opposition in the football game, blah blah blah.

So speaking of last Saturday, what ELSE have I been up to since I wrote last? (I hasten to point out that this is my second update in October, and I’ll probably write a third on Sunday on my voyage home…just ‘cuz it’s something to do. Go me.) The last update was written about a week and a half ago…I don’t know the exact date ‘cuz I can’t access the Internet right now, and I wrote it on Cameron’s computer so I don’t have a copy saved to my hard drive. I remember it was Game 6 of the NLCS, though, when the Cubs were all set to win and then the Marlins came back and destroyed them. Y’know, that fan leaned over the wall and interfered with Alou’s play and he’s now possibly the most hated man in baseball…stuff like that. Well, the Marlins went on to win in seven games, and the disappointment of the (two) true Chicago fans was heartbreaking. On a happier note, the Yankees positively kicked Boston’s ass.

I watched the games wherever I could…preferably with Yankees fans. After our win in game…five, I think, Joe walked out of the common room and shouted something to the effect of “Suck it, Boston!” Which went down well with the rest of the dorm. But I think the highlight of the baseball season – what might just be the highlight of any sports season, ever, unless the Rangers win the Stanley Cup again, (ha!) was Game Seven.

Watching that game was awesome. Me, Mike, other Mike, Drew, Erin, Lisa, Nikhil, and sometimes Joe and Ted watched the game in Drew’s single…which is quite an accomplishment if you know anything about Jarvis singles. It was hot, and uncomfortable, but we watched it the way through, cheering and shouting and swearing and such. We ate pizza and hot wings and drank beer and more than a few funnels got put away, and it was all very much camaraderie and Thursday night Trinity craziness. Joe concerned me a little, looming up behind me like he does, but other than that there was little worry about getting the shit beat out of me for being a Yankees fan.

Until, that is, the bottom of the twelfth when Aaron Boone hit that glorious home run over the fence and the crowd went WILD.

At least, I assume it did. Once we saw it was a home run, we (Mike, myself, and Joe) tore out of the room, screaming and yelling and joining with the rest of the Yankees fans in the dorm. I jumped into Jamie’s arms and gave him a huge hug and Mel too and ran up and down the second floor for a while, then up and down the first floor, and somewhere along the line the three of us ended up outside, screaming and yelling and chanting and running.

We ran from Jarvis to Elton and Jones, where we joined a crazy mob of people (it was at this point that a very dejected Andrew called me, and I felt kind of bad for feeling so good…but not really.) We somehow picked up a pair of guys from Elton (or maybe Jones) who were cheering for the Yankees…as were most of the people on the space between the dorms. Cheesy as it sounds, I felt so connected to those people…common love of a team made us all friends, chanting ‘1918’ and high-fiveing and laughing and reveling in our victory. When that started to die down, we turned around and sprinted down to Vernon Street, where ‘New York New York’ was playing from one of the frats until Campus Security made them turn it off. I did the can-can to it with one of the drunken Elton boys. Mike, wearing his ‘what rivalry?’ shirt, heckled and I think almost got himself punched…same with Joe. I was a bit more laid back – but no less vocal – and got no threats, only dirty looks. On the breathless walk back to Jarvis, Sam called and told me something about lucky yarmulke, talked to Mike for a bit, and life was good. Back on the Long Walk, I met up with Mel and we took a post-celebration jaunt down to Summit which, by this point, was more or less dead. So we came back to Jarvis and I dropped Mel off and stopped in to say hi to Laurence and Joe.

It wasn’t just Laurence and Joe – it rarely is – it was Kristin and Alex and Vai and Amy and Nate for a bit and Laurence and Joe. We chatted for a bit, and somehow the whole affair turned into an all-out dance party, with a bit too few boys for my taste…but it was still rather fun. As things were winding down I had a quick chat with Joe which further proves my point that boys are stupid and we should throw rocks at them. That said, he’s still a cool guy and I doubt he even remembers it. Then I headed back to bed, utterly exhausted but utterly wired, and eventually dropped off to sleep.

A brief break in my narrative to board the plane…which ended up being a three-ish hour break. I sat down on the flight out of Hartford and promptly fell asleep, waking up only when we landed in Philly. I brought my laptop off the plane (it was a one-stop flight so I was just gonna get back on) with the intent of writing, and got as far as buying a slice of pizza before I got distracted…by Will Derry. He’s coming home from Yale for the same reason I am – the play – and it’s not that big of a surprise that we ran into each other…he being one of the three people from my class in Connecticut, like I mentioned earlier. It was still kinda weird, though, but nice; we talked about school and life and such. He was the first person I’ve seen from Collegiate since I’ve left. Wow.

I was also struck by how much we’ve changed. Will was my first crush, back in third grade…an infatuation which lasted through sixth grade, and spanned a time when ‘boyfriend’ didn’t mean a thing to a girl who had never been kissed and was totally ignorant of the arts of flirting or romantic conquests.

It’s nice to know that I’ve grown wiser in the last six or so years. So has he, but I think he’ll always be little redhaired Will to me, and I kinda like him that way.

So yeah, that was odd. I was talking about last Thursday, but now I want to go back to the weekend before. I don’t remember what happened Friday…for no other reason than it was nothing terribly notable. Saturday, though, was an eventful day. Mel, Erika, and Christine ditched me to go carousing in New Hampshire and New York, but I stayed to go to Cleo’s Gender Bender party…the famous crossdressing party that Kevin apparently won last year. I went to an a cappella show beforehand, then helped Neil, Sergio, and David get dressed. I can’t wait to see my pictures. Nate and Cameron went too, but they didn’t dress up. I didn’t either, really…I mean, it’s not like wearing boys’ clothes is that much of a stretch for me. Anyway, the guys looked awesome…the fact that two of them were wearing my clothes was a bit odd, but I got over that. (Then I realized Serge was wearing my last clean bra and I had to do laundry the next day. Boo.) Trevor looked fantastic, and really should have won the Miss Trinity contest, but he was out-skanked by Jared. Kevin wore a short black dress and fairy wings, which was amusing…Pat wore a red dress that he found at Salvation Army…the whole atmosphere was one of…stuff. I don’t even really know how to characterize it, but it was a blast. I walked back to Jarvis with Serge so he could change and look like a boy, then came back to find that the party had gone dry. I went back to Nate’s room with him and this sophomore named Betsy and Vai and a few others…chilled there for a bit, then went upstairs, got food, and chilled by myself. Went back down to Nate’s room to talk to him and Joe for a bit; Joe was a bit giggly and I enjoyed messing with him. He called me Little Miss Condescending, but I assume he meant it in love.

This was a short flight; we’re starting down again, which means I’ve gotta hide this thing again. Bugger.

So for those of you who saw me this weekend, you know full well that I barely had time to sleep, much less finish a journal entry. It is currently 8:30 on Sunday night, and I’m on a very small plane somewhere between Richmond and Philly. The original plan was for me to be home in Jarvis right now, but because Richmond sucks and delayed my original flight, I got on a later one and won’t be in until nearly eleven. Rock on. Doesn’t matter TOO much…I got to have a great four-hour nap, dinner with my parents, and I got my music homework done. And besides, Sundays usually go until one or two am anyway; it’s not like I’m missing much back at school. I just wish I were done traveling…I’m a little concerned about making my connection in Philly, and so help me god, if I don’t get home tonight I might kill someone.

Anyway, back to last weekend. Or two weekends ago now, I guess. Saturday was the Gender Bender, Sunday was Chapel Singers and stuff. Again, I didn’t do anything terribly noteworthy, I don’t think, ‘cuz I don’t remember it.

The week that followed was, again, nondescript. I’m falling into a routine that usually involves going to class – but not always – and hanging out and eating and sleeping and singing and just sorta existing.

Fast forward to the next weekend. Mel was again out of town, visiting home and going on her hayride. Friday I went off-campus (woo!) with Mario, Cameron, Sergio, and Amy to see ‘Kill Bill.’ The fact that I was seeing a movie off-campus aside, I had a blast. Great company, the movie was awesome, and cheap - $4.50 for the last matinee. So that was awesome. We’d then planned to watch movies and hang out, but we just sort of ended up hanging out. Mike had friends over from home, so I hung out with them for a little bit, and I wound up in Sergio, Chris, and Owen’s room where I watched the ‘Magic of Owen Sanford’ – making an apple juice bottle, some duct tape, a pen, chewing gum, and a coke can into a bong. Apparently this has been done in a movie or something, but I’ve never seen the movie and I’d never seen it done. I was impressed…it’s apparently a boarding school trick.

Saturday was Homecoming. Like I care. I slept ‘till four, so pretty much the entire campus had passed out before I even woke up. Because they start serving the alcohol at tenish am, and that’s just bad. So I missed the football game and the subsequent alumni debauchery. Yeah. So I IMed Nate and bounced down to the Cave with him and then hung out with Mario and Cameron in the pool room. I returned to my room…or maybe I didn’t. At any rate, I eventually met up with Erika and Trevor and somehow the suggestion to reorganize my room was put forth. Sweet. For those of you who have never seen my room, you’re missing out. You also have no idea what ‘reorganizing my room’ entails. Basically, my little closet of a Jarvis single has room for a bed, a desk, a ‘chest’ of four drawers, and me. Sometimes not even me. So the original arrangement was to have the bed and the desk along opposite walls, with a runway-ish space in between them. The fridge and microwave went at the foot of the bed, and my crash pad just sort of floated, depending on where I was at any given time. After a little bit of effort from all three of us and a good deal of Swiffering, the room now has a much more ‘square’ feel. I’ve got the bed along the wall with the window, at a ninety-degree angle to where it was. The crash pad is between the bed and the wall. At the foot of the bed is that four-drawer assembly. The desk is on the opposite wall of where it was, right next to the head of my bed. There’s also a five-ish square foot bit of space behind the desk that makes the whole affair feel so much more bigger. Yes, I did just say ‘more bigger.’ Bugger off.

Damn bumpy flight.

So yeah, that was fun. I’ve got a nifty setup where the printer’s on the window sill with a lamp so I can read in bed, and I can also use my computer in bed, ‘cuz the cables run right along the floor next to it. I need a rug to cover up that five-by-five square, but other than that life is good in Jarvis D224. Granted, I haven’t been there that much recently, but when I’m there I’m happy.

After we’d done the better part of the damage on my room, the three of us ambled down to Austin to watch the annual musical theatre revue. I had a few friends in it, and I’m not one to miss out on a theatre production. It was free, though, so we were put on a waiting list, and were damn lucky to get the last of the maybe-fifty seats in the little black box theatre they did the show in. And it was incredible. I now understand why I didn’t make the show – these people are so talented, and the show absolutely blew me away. The singing was, for the most part, powerful and right-on and great, the acting was excellent, the dancing too…and seeing my friends clearly have an incredible time onstage was almost more rewarding than just seeing a wonderful piece of theatre. I tried to see it Sunday with Mel when she got back, but we were, I think, fiftieth on the waiting list, so that didn’t happen.

The only problem with seeing the show was that it reminded me how much I miss the theatre and everything that went with it. I never claimed to have any kind of unique musical theatre talent, but I sure loved doing the two shows I did in high school. And I do claim to be a somewhat accomplished techie…and again, the shows I did at Collegiate – all ten or so of them – were among the best times of my life. I miss it, and need to get back into it – either acting or teching – because I really feel like there’s a hole where performing or teching has been for the last four years…and holes suck.

After the show, I spent some great quality time with Erika. We had some special hot chocolate and then wandered around campus, finally ending up in Serge and Owen’s room again, where we played Asshole for a while and I eventually went to bed, but not before having an illuminating conversation with a rather drunk Mario.

Sunday was an early Chapel Singers event, ‘cuz it was Homecoming. I really have no idea why this meant we had to be up at ten am, but we did, so I was. Sang, went back to bed. I guess…in case you haven’t noticed, I rarely have a clue what I do on any given day. I remember big events, like rearranging my room or seeing an awesome show, and things like choir and Chapel Singers are pretty much weekly, but unless something is so awesome/awful to totally stick in my mind, I forget it or it all runs together. Which is kind of a shame, ‘cuz some cool stuff happens.

Anyway, last week was fun. Rather laid back, and generally enjoyable. Monday after choir I went down to the Underground for a crazy long amount of time ‘cuz Pat was asposed to meet me. He didn’t, but I read through Sandman #4, which had arrived in my mailbox earlier that day. I then went back to my room and made some EZMac, which is becoming a dietary staple, and I think that’s bad. I bemoaned my lack of fork to Erika, who shortly thereafter arrived at my door with a grin and a spoon. Not long after, Nate IMed and asked if I had food, so he came up to share the joy – and the spoon. It was a good, relaxed night, except for the whole ‘getting to sleep somewhere after four am’ bit. Made religion class the next day a bit interesting, but I scored some hardcore brownie points with the professor for being the only person to take the optional, open-book midterm. It was two hours of writing the Thursday prior, but I pretty much enjoyed all of it, and did really well, and yeah, the brownie points thing. I don’t think I could get away with napping in class again, though, especially since I did it Thursday too.

After religion I pretty much holed up in my room and napped all day. And by ‘all day’ I mean ‘fourish,’ when my phone rang. It was Chris with an interesting proposal – Eddie Izzard tickets for that night. My knee-jerk response was to say that I had Chapel Singers sectionals, but then I realized three things a) I was sick and had no voice b) I was going to miss the service Sunday anyway c) that was a damn stupid thing to do. So I IMed him and asked if they were still available – this was about ten minutes later. They were, and a few hours later we shoved off for Boston.

The trip was nice – Chris is a great guy, with a wicked sense of humor, great taste in music, and excellent baseball allegiance. The show was, as is to be expected, amazing. I won’t say it was as good as Dress to Kill, but part of that stems from the fact that that routine has become so much a part of my life – I don’t think a day passes where I don’t quote it – that it’d be incredibly hard to meet that level of greatness, especially in just one viewing. Still, the show was phenomenal though I felt a little conflicted admiring his choice of wardrobe. Anyway, I laughed ‘till I cried, so did everyone else there, and it was just awesome.

The return trip included some listening to the Yankees-Marlins game three, but we were having radio issues so we turned it off right before Matsui hit his two-run homer. It was six-one or whatever the final was when I got back to school, and I really have no idea how that happened. Whatever – they ended up losing the fucking Series anyway, so scores back in Game 3 don’t matter. The point is that the whole evening was spectacular – fantabulous, if you will.

The following day, Wednesday, was fairly chill, and then I wandered down to Mario and Cameron’s room to say, I think, goodnight. I forget. Anyway, Christine was there too, and the two of us ended up staying until somewhere in the neighborhood of three am, which just cemented our decision to pull an all-nighter and do laundry and get work done and shit. It was a great idea, until I realized that I then had, y’know, a full day’s worth of classes ahead of me. I dozed off during most of Religion, as was becoming a norm, then came back here and slept all day, straight through choir and to about six pm. Then the fun began. And by ‘fun’ I mean ‘mild amounts of drinking, mainly in the form of laundry-room beer pong, but including Mario Party and climbing pipes.’ Despite my previous success with beer pong, I sucked ass that night, but no one really seemed to care. I wound up hanging out with Nate for the better part of that evening, which was nice.

The next morning I got up with my phone at eight thirty, and I think I’ve already covered what happened that day. As of this writing, however, it is November 6, and now I’ve got a week and a half to cover beyond what I’d originally planned to do. Because I’m a lazy bastard.

So I got home on Friday around 3. Dad met me at the airport and we went to pick up Bradley, who’s been in the shop since AUGUST. It was really weird to drive again, but I enjoyed it immensely. And I didn’t hit anything. I picked mom up, we went and got my hair cut, and came back home for a FAST dinner before I booked it over to the gym, said hi to everyone, picked up Aaron and Andrew, and headed back to school for the play.

Now, the play was the main reason I was going home, and while I was cynical about Collegiate’s ability to do West Side Story, I’d heard good things. But nothing could have prepared me for the incredible show that they put on. First off, from the second I got out of my car ‘till curtain I was running around the house saying hi to people I knew and giving hugs and trading stories. Everyone was back for it, and it was awesome to see everyone. And then there was the show. I know John and Phil and Alan and Alice and everyone else have talent. I was in no way prepared for this show. It was amazing, incredible, I laughed, I cried, I missed that program in a way I couldn’t express. Running up on stage to see everyone after was excellent…but seeing John and Phil hugging each other in tears made me lose it too. I miss the camaraderie of being part of a cast. I miss the feeling of taking your bows to a full house. I miss the highly unprofessional stage parties that happen as soon as the orchestra has played its last note. And while I know I’ll probably talk my way into Trinity’s theater program one way or another, I’ll never do another show at Collegiate again. And that’s sad.

Not sad, however, was the subsequent hanging out-ness at Friendly’s. The usual suspects gathered – Me, Elissa, Adriaan, Liz, Carter, Kim, Carrie, Andrew, Alex, Aaron – and I took the boys home around eleven and then came back. Kim, Kenji, Megan, Keith, and Katie were hanging out in the parking lot, and I joined them…until around one thirty am. My car was driven around, I took lots of pictures, and laughed ‘till my sides hurt. It was phenomenal to be back with everyone again…we were all slightly out of place there…well, maybe except for the TDs…but it was kind of like one crazy outcast reunion in the parking lot. We eventually tore ourselves away, and I headed home…but upon passing Sam’s house, I saw some familiar cars in the driveway, and so pulled in to say hello. I ended up staying for an hour or so, chilled with Sam and his parents and Patrick and Matt and Carter for a while…just like the summer. It was nice. I finally found my way home around three am, and set my alarm for eight, because I’d agreed to work a job with Kenji.

Now, I guess the qualifier for this job was that Kenji swore we’d be done by noon. Eight thirty to noon. Set up lights for a wearable art show downtown. No biggie. I’d be able to go to the Homecoming game, see Andrew, climb, have dinner with my family, hang out with Amy, and get some sleep before my flight back here Sunday afternoon. It didn’t go quite like that. I’m not really complaining, ‘cuz it was fun and I got to do tech stuff and Kenji and David are always excellent company…but we were there until almost four pm. I spent a good hour and a half of that period lying on some trusswork suspended some twenty feet in the air, to focus lights. I was hot, headachey, had a metal pole digging into my chest, and was trying to lean forward to focus lights hanging a foot below me, usually ones that had loose God Bolts. It was insane, and it compromised my patience on more than one occasion. But whatever; it ended up being not so bad, and I had time to get home and shower before dinner with my family and Jessica Lingo, who I went to school with third through sixth grade. She’s at U of R, and it was really cool to see her again, since we’d not seen each other since sixth grade. Weird.

Afterward, I bounced briefly next door to talk to the Schnurs and kickoff the Yankees/Marlins and Rangers/Red Wings game. Then over to Peak, to CLIMB for the first time in FOREVER. Amy was there, and it was thrilling to see her again. Andrew was there too, and Brian and Aaron and Chris and Alex, and it was just like nothing had changed. Also adding to that illusion was the fact that I DIDN’T suck like I’d planned on…I actually climbed low tens, which was just about where I was two months ago. So I haven’t gotten any better monkeying around on the pipes in here, but I’ve not gotten any worse for not doing a regular workout, which is a huge relief.

Amy and Andrew and I agreed to meet for breakfast and I headed back to the job site from that morning/afternoon for strike. Climbed around a bit more, undid a transformer, goofed off, etc, etc…then hopped in the car with Kenji, with whom I was hitching a ride home (because clearly I’m not yet mature or able enough to drive downtown at night), and we set off in the direction opposite of home to help one of our cohorts, Jeremy, drop off some subs in what was apparently halfway to Jamestown. Then we about-faced and I got home around…three. A recurring theme.

Eight thirty came way too early…made even earlier by Amy’s seven-forty-five phone call asking where I was. I politely reminded her it was actually an hour earlier and she had forgotten about that little Daylight Savings Time thing, and I’d see her once eight forty five really did roll around.

Of course, my parents weren’t thrilled about my disappearing yet again, and I endured the usual onslaught of ‘you haven’t changed a bit’ and whatnot, but meh, I’m not concerned. Breakfast was awesome; I picked up Chris and Andrew too, and it was so nice to just hang out with them and Amy and yeah, River City Diner rocks.

I got home to discover that, because Richmond “International” Airport sucks, my flights had been changed, and I was actually going to be sticking around a good deal longer than I’d expected. Bueno. I headed upstairs and took a four-hour nap, followed by the best dinner I’ve had since I got to school and some quality family time, and finally headed off to the airport to catch one of the last flights out of Richmond. Of course, that flight was late too, so I ended up sprinting clear across the Philly airport to make my connection to Hartford. I was a stressed out little child, but I made my flight and settled in for the brief ride home. Then I fought for a cab and finally wound up back at home sweet Jarvis a little after midnight. I’d been home for probably less than two minutes when Nate knocked on the door, and I still have no idea how he knew I was back. Mel showed up shortly thereafter, and I wandered around the building into the wee hours of the morning, saying my hellos and such.

Most of the following week was, like most other weeks, a noiseless blur. Monday I somehow talked Mario and Cameron into watching Monty Python and the Holy Grail with me, and that kept us up way past our bedtimes…but other than that I can’t think of anything particularly exciting that happened. The weeks are just like that, y’know? I’m sure stuff happens, but ‘cuz I’m a lazy bastard and don’t get most stuff written down till two, three, four weeks after the fact, I forget. And, like Trevor says, it’s largely inconsequential.

Well, not really. Tuesday I heard about this new a cappella group…the Quirks. It’s being started by two girls I know vaguely from Chapel Singers and Concert Choir, and it sounded like a good gig…I was (and, honestly, still am) a little concerned about the whole clique element of the group, but whatever; I figured I’d try. The auditions were Thursday, so I had two days to figure out an audition song. Thursday night was cool even before that…we were decorating the hall for Halloween, and we all got pretty into it…lights and pentagrams (and I was apparently the only one who knew how what one looked like…) and signs and cobwebs and balloons and all sorts of cool stuff. It all got taken down that night, and my RA still has my lights, but running up and down the hall and pestering Laurence and goofing off and climbing pipes was awesome. Then to auditions. I sang ‘Short People’ and matched some pitches and did a very small bit of percussion and that was it. I thought it was honestly one of the best auditions I’ve ever given…and I’ve given lots of auditions. We were supposed to know about callbacks the next day…and no one heard. Turns out they were waiting for more guys to audition, and were going to hold ‘em again on Friday. The next Friday. So that gave me a week to sorta go ‘…oh.’ Which I did.

Also not inconsequential was that Friday night, which was Halloween. I’ve got a roll of film that needs to be developed from that night, but because I’m an idiot I won’t have it ‘till Monday. And since I don’t have a scanner, you won’t get to see the sexiness that was the Stereotype Brigade unless you happen to know where I live. Then just come ask.

My initial plan had been to dress up rather skankishly and wear my wings. But I left my wings at home, which narrowed my options considerably. Rather than lament my loss of wings, however, I bounced around for a bit and decided to take off on Mel’s punk-kid idea and be a goth. Erika was dressing as a prep, and that was that. I dug out my nifty black top with strings for arms (which got a great deal of compliments) and my black Prana pants…Mel supplied the shoes and the makeup, and Sergio, also going Goth, helped me spike my hair. Mel was wearing argyle tights, a polka dot skirt, and an orange tshirt over a red striped jcrew shirt. With cow ears and ribbons and those shoes whose names I forget. Erika had the popped collar and the skirt and sweater and ditched her glasses for the night…her costume also made her a perfect Trinitone. I was amused. We wandered for a long while, found Pat, did his makeup, went to the Cave, got mixers, went back to Serge’s room, pregamed a bit more, wandered down to Cleo, and stayed there. The party wasn’t anything special, but it was fun. Kevin was a Spartan Cheerleader, Bam was the Snuggle Bear, Pat was a rock star, Chris was Britney Spears, Dan was a girl…Mel was trashed.. It was entertaining, too, ‘cuz she definitely was fine up until around quarter ‘till one, when she announced ‘Hey Erin…I’m drunk now.” And fell over giggling onto the couch. She went home and Erika stayed with me while I strategized based on some reconnaissance Bam had done for me…which failed, but whatever. I also taught Erika how to play chess and got my ass kicked by Kyle. Then I came home and crashed.

But not for long! ‘Cuz my life sucks like that. I got up a little before eleven the next day to pack up and head to upstate New York with Mel and Jamie and Ayesha and David and Neil. We’d been planning this excursion for quite some time, so it promised to be fun. We stayed at Mel’s, which was cool...went to Albany for excellent pie, hung out with her family (which was super-exciting ‘cuz Jen, her sister, is very cool and I don’t see her ever, and her parents rock too), went on a Haunted Hayride which freaked out a few of us who shall remain nameless…then returned chez Mel and watched David and Jamie rapidly decline into near-death. Which was unfortunate. Mel and I made a Wal-Mart run at two am, and hilarity ensued…we all crashed and burned sometime soon after we returned. Neil decided to be cute and usurp half of my bed, which meant neither of us slept well that night. Then David and Jamie thought tickle wars would be a good way to get us all motivated. It got us motivated, but not exactly thrilled to be thusly. Whatever. I had to be back by four thirty for Chapel Singers anyway, so I was sort of the motivation to get everyone moving. As it was, we got back a little after four thirty; I took a shower and was at the Chapel, damp but dressed, ten minutes after we got back. I was pleased with myself.

The service was beautiful – it was All Saints’ service, so it was kind of solemn, but we did ‘Song for Athene,’ which is possibly my favorite song we do…the homily was wonderful, and it left me feeling…not okay, certainly, but a little better about things. Y’see, Sunday would have been Chris’ nineteenth birthday. And that thought had been with me all day, and then we had the service, and it made me miss her like crazy, but if there is a place where one goes when one dies, she’s there, and she’s wreaking havoc, just like she would be if she were around today. It was the one line of the sermon that really got me – “I’m not afraid of death, but there is so much good I could do here, on Earth.” I didn’t cry – and was proud of myself – but I had to sing a little softer to keep from getting choked up. But that was it; I didn’t let it bring me down, because, clichéd as it is, Chris would’ve killed me.

After the service, and for no real reason other than he rocks, the chaplain took us all out to dinner at First and Last Pizza, which is this cool place I’d never been to, being new to this whole Hartford thing. I sat with Chris (boy Chris) and Cara and Ben and Greg, and the food and the conversation was AWESOME. We talked about dorm quirks and music and movies and trips and all sorts of other things. And we all ate ourselves sick because, well, the food was free and there was SO MUCH of it. We got back a little after eight, I guess, and as far as I can remember I bummed around and got nothing much done.

Now it should probably be noted at this point that I haven’t done laundry in over two weeks – I’m wondering just how long I can push it – and my room hadn’t really been effectively cleaned for some time. As this past week progressed, it just got worse and worse, until I think it was Wednesday night, when I simply got motivated and cleaned the hell out of the place.

Tuesday was a ‘meh’ day, but I ended up hanging out with Mario again, and giving up sleep in the bargain. I’d slept through religion earlier, in my bed instead of in class, since I realized that Professor Byrne doesn’t have an attendance policy. So I didn’t sleep much. Which woulda been fine if I hadn’t had a music midterm Wednesday. Oh well. I also got shots taken care of, which was nice, and got a flu shot on Thursday just to round out the week.

Wednesday was also ‘meh’ – between shots and class and practicum I didn’t have time to nap, and then Laurie suggested I accompany her, Jack, Chris, and Amy to see the new Matrix. And who am I to refuse?

Let me interject here again, briefly, to discuss the two different Chrises I keep mentioning. There’s one, climber-Chris, who’s a senior, lives in the building next to mine, and fed my Eddie Izzard habit. The other Chris, tutorial-Chris, lives clear the fuck across campus and is the one I saw Spellbound with back in September for those of you playing the home game. I doubt these two Chrises know each other, and they really don’t have much in common, except that I know them both. So the Chris that I’m going to be talking about for the rest of this entry is tutorial-Chris.

Anyway, I thought the movie was quite good. It wasn’t the BEST movie I’ve ever seen, and it wasn’t as good as the first, blah blah blah, but I enjoyed it and felt it well worth my time and money. So to anyone who thought it sucked, I disagree. It wasn’t excellent, but expectations were too high for it to possibly satisfy anyone. It did deliver, and I liked it. The ending was disappointing in that it totally sold out and did nothing to wrap up what has been billed as a trilogy. Ah well. Like I said, I enjoyed it. Good company, decent movie, and I didn’t have to take a taxi.

Thursday was a pretty chill day. Again, nothing so momentous happened, except for course registration. This is apparently the reason for most college suicides…at least, it is if anyone else works the way Trinity does. You have a scheduled time to get online and sign up for classes. If they’re full, they’re full, tant pis; don’t expect to get online at your appointed time, either, because chances are if you have an 11:30 am appointment, everyone else with that same appointment will try and sign on with you at exactly 11:30, and as a result, the system collapses and everything goes down in flames. Since I had one of the last appointments in the school, being a freshman with an 11:30 time, I ended up registering for Costume Design, two Religion classes, Advanced swimming, and an Anthropology Thesis. I’m not sure how the latter happened; I wanted Bio, and got that. And whenever I try to take it off my list of classes the server times out. So I guess I’d better figure out what Anthropology is. ‘Cuz I’m not entirely sure as of right now.

Thursday night was dull…so dull that Mel and I wandered around campus and hit up all the dorms we knew – visited Pat, mainly to make sure he wasn’t dead, because his away messages made it sound like he was. We eventually found ourselves up at Summit, hanging out with Chris and his roommate Jack. He’d just bought Tony Hawk Underground, so that sucked his soul for a good four days. I played that, established that I suck, watched him play it for a while, laughed a bit, watched Futurama and Family Guy, and came home a happily entertained girl.

Friday was fun…skipped history, because I didn’t see any good reason not to. Then somehow got talked into going to see Elf - which, if you’ve been keeping track, makes two movies in three days. Wow. The movie was actually quite good…I’d expected a happy touchy-feely holiday movie, and it was that, but there was also some genuine humor, and I laughed far more than I said “ew, happy family moment.” And when Cameron started singing along with the movie, I almost wet myself.

So yeah, that was fun. Following this, I met up with Mel at the Cave and the two of us wandered the halls for a while, and eventually ended up back at Summit with Chris and his Tony Hawk. Rinse and repeat – play game ‘till he got dizzy, hung out for a bit longer, watched Reno 911, picked bits of congealed gel out of his hair, and stuff like that. I stayed there a significant amount of time longer than I should have, because it gets cold up here in November. And it was windy. We were on the fourth floor, and I could hear the wind whistling outside…reminded me of the feeling of being up on top of Legacy at the New…eighty-some feet up, just me and the rock, totally exposed, and I could look over my shoulder to see the New River and trees and mountains forever. There’s a reason Discombobulated is on the cover of all the New guidebooks. And when you’re up there, you can’t hear your belayer or the other climbers or the river anything else. Just your breathing and your fingernails against the rock and the sound of the wind. And it sounded like this, except that I could hear a little bit of the chill. It actually sounded cold. And I said ‘fuck this, I’m not going back to Jarvis. So I didn’t. Threeish the next day I bounced back to Jarvis and commenced my day of sitting on my ass. I worked a little more on this journal entry, which has now broken twelve pages (to those of you who have read this far, I love you!). And I’m not going to bed until I finish. Yup.

So yeah, last night was kind of a letdown. I dorked around for a while, and Mel informed me that we were going out – she put on makeup and dressed up and all sorts of stuff, so we wandered. The original plan was to get some special hot chocolate and head over to the LSC quad to watch the lunar eclipse, which was quite interesting. Hung out with Bam and Lisa in the process; always a treat. Went back to Bam’s room for a while, played some SC2, and goofed off. I jacked two of Pat’s Jeff Buckley CDs to burn, because the way Pat talks about him makes me love him even though I’ve never really listened to much of his music.

I think that’s the thing that’s missing from so many people I meet. There’s no passion about something. No anti-drug, if you will. If you asked someone to name the one person, place, or thing that they were truly passionate about, that they would give up everything to pursue or would give anything to meet, I don’t know many people who could give you an honest answer, no matter how much time you gave them to think. I love climbing. I consider it to be my passion. But would I give up writing or music to climb forever? I’d have to think very hard to make that decision. Same with music. Would I give up climbing or writing to be able to make music forever? I have no idea.

Maybe I’m being a little extreme. I don’t know that Pat would give up everything to meet Jeff Buckley. But the way he talks about that man – even over the highly impersonal medium of IM – is incredible. I want to sit him down and let him talk to me about him and anyone else that he thinks is interesting, because Pat is one of the few people I know who loves something this much…who is so open with that love…who can totally captivate me with his words about someone whose music I know nothing about. And beyond the fact that he’s an incredible person with an amazing talent and is about the nicest, craziest person I’ve ever met, he’s also so impossibly real. Because he has a love, and he’s willing to bare his soul – whether he knows it or not – when he talks about that love. It’s incredible, and I hope everyone will have a chance to meet someone like him in their lifetime.

All that said (*whew*), the night progressed normally after we got bored of the eclipse. Ended up back at Summit, where Mel and Erika and Trevor quickly departed, but I stayed around ‘cuz I was wondering if something interesting was going to happen. It did, sort of. Jack (Chris’ suitemate) had consumed an entire fifth of Jack Daniels, and was looking mildly cracked out. So he and Bill (another suitemate) somehow decided to follow me home. Bill fixed my myTunes though, because apparently he wrote the program. Which was cool, but when I saw a totally trashed individual messing with my registry I had something of a coronary. But that’s all okay now. And apparently not only did the pair of them find their way back to Summit, but neither of them had hangovers this morning. Which is just further proof that there is no god.

So I woke up today around eleven and proceeded to flip out ‘cuz I’d slept through music, and then realized it was Sunday, and fuck that. Went back to sleep ‘till three thirtyish, showered, went to Chapel Singers, had dinner, did some music homework, saw the end of a very disturbing movie that I think Erin (not me) said was called Rules of Attraction. I need to watch the whole thing, I think. Then I came back here, and have spent the better part of the last two hours finishing this journal entry, talking to Carter, listening to Lewis Black, chatting with Pat and Mario…yeah, it’s about that time. I’ve learned my lesson – no more putting off journal entries. If I start one, I need to finish it then instead of putting it off ‘till three weeks later. ‘Cuz I doubt anyone has read this except to see his/her name in it…and unless you’re Pat, you’ll probably be disappointed at how little I did, in fact, talk about you. Sorry about that – be inspiring or funny or awesome and you’ll get written about more next time.

Blatant bribery for people to be my friend. I love it.

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