October 17, 2002 :: 11:54 p.m.
calling out to the astronaut
Erg. I wish I could fix things. Not for everyone, of course, because that would compromise my standing as Little Miss Misanthrope, and hey, some people deserve nastiness. But some people don't. Specifically, Adam doesn't. And since he's really the person I care about most, he's the one whose things I wish I could fix. You know? He's down about his grades, about his grandma, and probably some other things that he hasn't told me about. I hate to see him upset. He deserves to be happy. He deserves a lot more than he gets, a lot more than I can afford to give him. And I feel bad sometimes. A lot of the time. But I try, and I guess that's worth something.
Mer. Sorry. Getting all weepy and mushy. What can I say? I love the boy. I can't help it. I am hopelessly under his thrall, as if he were Dracula or some such. Only better, because there's more with the cute and the sweet and the funny and less with the pointy and the bloodlust and the undead.
Anyway. I came, I saw, I studied. I took my books and my discman to the lounge and read until the masses decided to make the place their own. The clacking of billiard balls and extensive profanity are not conducive to learning. I won't even mention the complete and total bastardization of the English language that is so thoughtlessly committed every time one of these people opens their mouths. It's disgusting. I was under the impression that people go to college to further their education, not to learn basic grammar skills.
I'm starting to think that I'm just way smarter than most people. Seriously. I don't mean to be all pompous and conceited, but jesus. It's the only explanation that I can come up with. Of course, I'm not incredibly intelligent, so that conclusion doesn't bode too well for the majority. Heh.
So. 12:14. I should be in bed now. Justin is staying here tonight, so he and Emily are being scary, as usual. They freak me out. They're just... strange kids. And I'm not even taking their horrifying affinity for trash TV and professional wrestling into considering here. I don't know what it is, really. I like Emily. She's a fun roommate, as roommates go. But there's just something about them together, as a pair, that makes me want to make two sets of little toothpick-skewered eyeball hors d'oeuvres. I'm not sure who I'd give them to, though. I don't eat eyes.
I'm tempted to wait until they fall asleep to go to bed, because I have a thing. It's a weird thing. But I'm so tired... and I have class at 8, which means that I have to be ready by 7:30 to go to breakfast... hrm. I feel that I must brush aside my weird thing just this once and have myself a really long nap. So... goodnight, then.
(Oh, right. I got some interesting Google hits tonight: "buffy lemons" and "ass biting." Gotta love that ass biting.)
back & forth
Wait, there's more!
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