I finally have my keyboard working--you know, the one I stole from my old house and brought here so that I could type with ergonomically correct ease.
My mom leaves today for Katy. I was surprised at how composed she was when we said our last goodbyes; her eyes were fluttering with tears, but her voice remained somewhat steady and she didn't go into any weeping, which I really appreciated. I mean, the whole time we were here, she made references to how much she was going to cry.
And of course, I'm all right with people crying, but even so, it's extremely awkward to have to deal with someone crying on your shoulder. I'm glad I didn't have to have practical experience with that.
I have to say though, that I'm afraid.
I came back from hanging out with a fellow I met at my orientation, one of his friends, and one of her friends. When they started talking about hookas and partying and stuff, I knew I wasn't with quite the right people. The fellow that I met at orientation--his name is Noah, for the record--was actually pretty cool, but the other two (especially the female) were the sort of people I avoided at all costs.
I made an excuse to leave and did so, walking the six blocks back to my residence hall, and stopping to grab a piece of pizza on the way. It was the first meal I had to pay for at college. $2.52. I hate DC prices; they make me think that $2.52 for a slice of pizza is a good deal. Bastards.
But anyways, as I was saying, I'm afraid. GW kids have a reputation for being snooty assholes like the ones I was just hanging out with.
I think I need to meet people who play poker. It's entirely possible that Fred, Greg, and Dan (the last two being my "suitemates") play, but I just have a feeling that they don't. I -am- with the Nerd Herd, however, so there's got to be some people who do.
And yes! I call the honors kids the Nerd Herd! I, as many people know, love to refer to myself as a nerd. Adding "herd"--a term often used with goats--to it makes it so much cooler.
Anyways, I'm going to get to writing some hot raunchy pr0n. Because I can.
Hasta la Byebye
My mom leaves today for Katy. I was surprised at how composed she was when we said our last goodbyes; her eyes were fluttering with tears, but her voice remained somewhat steady and she didn't go into any weeping, which I really appreciated. I mean, the whole time we were here, she made references to how much she was going to cry.
And of course, I'm all right with people crying, but even so, it's extremely awkward to have to deal with someone crying on your shoulder. I'm glad I didn't have to have practical experience with that.
I have to say though, that I'm afraid.
I came back from hanging out with a fellow I met at my orientation, one of his friends, and one of her friends. When they started talking about hookas and partying and stuff, I knew I wasn't with quite the right people. The fellow that I met at orientation--his name is Noah, for the record--was actually pretty cool, but the other two (especially the female) were the sort of people I avoided at all costs.
I made an excuse to leave and did so, walking the six blocks back to my residence hall, and stopping to grab a piece of pizza on the way. It was the first meal I had to pay for at college. $2.52. I hate DC prices; they make me think that $2.52 for a slice of pizza is a good deal. Bastards.
But anyways, as I was saying, I'm afraid. GW kids have a reputation for being snooty assholes like the ones I was just hanging out with.
I think I need to meet people who play poker. It's entirely possible that Fred, Greg, and Dan (the last two being my "suitemates") play, but I just have a feeling that they don't. I -am- with the Nerd Herd, however, so there's got to be some people who do.
And yes! I call the honors kids the Nerd Herd! I, as many people know, love to refer to myself as a nerd. Adding "herd"--a term often used with goats--to it makes it so much cooler.
Anyways, I'm going to get to writing some hot raunchy pr0n. Because I can.
Hasta la Byebye
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