13:55 - December 14, 2002
that will be that
3 down, 2 to go. Finals-wise, I'm in the lead. Life-wise, I'm trailing. There is a girl in a pink shirt and a poodle sitting outside my window, watching the mountains as if suddenly they're about to get up and move to the other side of the city without warning. It wouldn't surprise me. Nothing would surprise me. It's December and at least 60 degrees outside. Skiers are bemoaning existence and contemplating throwing themselves out windows, but the windows here have bolts in them that don't allow them to open more than about five inches. The mass consensus is that it's supposed to prevent suicides (are we like Cornell, with our massive river and suicide bridge? Boulder, with its so-easy-you-could-die core classes?) but a couple of people have said it's because people have pushed furniture out them in past years. I'm looking around to see what would fit through five inches.... that sounds fun.

I have a friend who emptied his ashtray out his eleventh-floor window and it all landed on the head of some girl who was walking by. All she said was, 'Ew, I need to take a shower now.' I think I would have had a stronger response ('FUCK YOU, 11TH FLOOR DEMON!!!') but that's just me. ('Excuse me, is that a cigarette butt behind your ear?' in the middle of astronomy lab.) Those asses.

I was up on that floor when we had a fire drill. I was also very, very high. Running down eleven stairwells, round and round, trying to eat out of a tin of barbeque Pringles at the same time (I HAD to have those Pringles NOW), trying not to get dizzy, running into people coming out from other floors... by the time I got down there I was either going to be sobered up from all the excitement or ten times higher.... guess which one happened. This makes THREE times I've run into Aaron stoned off my nut, and I'm sure he thinks I'm just normally that spacey. I was enthralled with the grass blades in the 10pm moonlight.... he had to pull me up and get me to go to the gas station with him so I wouldn't stay there all night. I just shouldn't go outside in that state.

Four more days and I'm home. Four more days and I can stop feeling like my head is collapsing in on itself. Four more days and I can stop thinking about the Paxil and where the person I gave it to to hide may have hidden it. Over the break the cleaning people will throw it away and that will be that.

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