20:21 - August 23, 2002
abrasive college angst entry: proceed with caution
'The blondes' are all in a tizzy about sorority rushing. (There are currently.. count them.. seven bleached blondes running around the suite, putting on perfume, in addition to two boozehounds from downstairs absentmindedly scratching their balls and making lewd jokes. I mean, I'm all for lewd jokes, but Jesus fucking Christ. Have some class. Make them creative. Not 'wanna see the family jewels?' And then get the fuck out of my room. At least they're not directed at me; I might puke. The blondes are an ample amount of perfect lewd-joke-receivers. (Giggle! Giggle! Oh, Steve, shut up, giggle giggle. Let me lean over just a bit farther so you can see down my shirt even more.)
I'm sick. My stomach has declared a revolution against the dorm food. The chancellor's address in the open field without a nearby bathroom was excruciating, but nobody needs to hear about that, do they? The girl next to me and I squealed over the drum major; he was fucking hot. Is that better? I wore one of my countless hippie dresses today and sandals and I was, of course, the freak, which gave me some amount of amusement. 'Oh wow, did some Indian make that for you?' Sarah actually asked.

And if Steve and Chris from downstairs make one more stupid fucking comment about how our RA is so gay and he's probably humping men in there, or how their friend's roommate is so gay because they don't play sports or don't scratch their balls and rape women, I'm going to kick their teeth. And if Ashley doesn't stop saying things are retarded and gay, and how she's not a lesbian, that's her sister kissing her in the photo... I mean.. I don't know.

The undercurrent, eh? Keep looking for the undercurrent. Positive. Positive. Meditate. Find a way to turn this fucking air conditioner off. Positive.

I would have had to hide a few tears from Ashley today if she'd been here instead of passed out a floor down. I relived in my dream the last time I hugged Erik. Not even a week ago. What I wouldn't give have him sitting next to me right now. What I wouldn't give to be dead tired in the laser tag place again with all my friends. If Camille weren't going to Denver, I might fall apart. I don't like to think my sudden flow of emotion is due to the fact that I left my meds in a hotel room on the road; I don't like to think that they've stifled me so much that I have to stop taking them to miss my friends.
But I miss my friends.

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