new topic!

I fell in love.

This is how we met: the first night of frosh week, they had pizza (and beer) parties at frosh leaders’ houses, for mingling, a couple of groups to a house. Our groups were at the same party, and we both sort of noticed each other while we were mingling. Cut to a few nights later, it’s Retro Night at the Wardy (campus pub) and we danced together a bit. I would’ve danced with him more, but while walking my roomie back to our room, since she didn’t have her keys, we saw a girl being loaded into an ambulance, and that was pretty much a total buzzkill for me, so I went to bed soon after. Cut to the day before lectures and such begin, I think “maybe he’ll be in my tutorial… no, that never happens.” Cut to the next day, he is in my tutorial. That night it’s Maritime Night at the Wardy, there’s live music, I know a million folk songs and fit right in, I don’t know “Barrett’s Privateers” yet, but I pick that up fast. I’m there with my friend (this initial thing is a problem, so many people have the first initial E.), let’s call her Rosie since she had a bandanna that night and did many a Rosie the Riveter impression. And she gets me up to dance, but he offers his arm so off I go with him. And after the song Rosie asks me “what the fuck was that?” and I say something like “he’s in my tutorial, and oh my god he’s totally my type, and he’s wearing brown corduroy pants.” Let it be known that I have a deep love of corduroy pants. But that’s not really the point. Rosie, who by now has had plenty of beer plus a shot of tequila, decides that we must dance together again. She basically physically shoves us together. And we dance, and we go outside for some air, and we get to talking, and we go to his room, and neither of us gets much sleep that night. And the next day he asks me out for coffee after tutorial, and so far I’m getting my happy ending…

I can write more, if you want to know more.

(I do not like how that’s all one block of text. May edit later.)

sadness.

I wish this wasn’t the first post in ages, there are so many good things that’ve happened since I last wrote.

The list I was starting in my head after my good friend K. told me to write here again had:
- the first black US President was elected and inaugurated
- I came to Canada for university
- I fell in love with the guy I met the first night of frosh week

But you know what happened?

An absolutely incredible woman died. She was my advisor for a good part of my high school years, and head of the theatre department, where I spent an absurd amount of time. She’s the one who got me to get my shit together on my senior project, she’s the one who helped me grow up. I already missed her, up here over 400 miles away. I’d promised her a longer email a couple of weeks ago, which I never wrote. It was going to be full of things I was so proud to tell her about. I was so excited that I’d get home in time to see the musical, too.

Life sucks, you know?

I think it might be harder for me, too, because I’m alone with this. None of my friends here knew her. There’s one other person in the city (that I know of) who went to my school, and I’m not sure he ever spent time in the theatre department. Not like I did, certainly.

I was talking to a friend last night, and she said: “people can be understanding, but when there’s a death in the family (which the theatre crowd certainly is), you just want to be with your family.” That’s exactly it. I want to hug someone who knows how I feel. I called K. last night, which helps, but I want to be with everyone. I want to choke my way through “Rose” (which we sang before every show) in a group, not alone.

But most of all I want Robin to give me a hug, and that’s never going to happen again.

. . . there are no words.

My life right now is indescribable.  Parts of it are wonderful, parts of it are falling apart.

I choreographed and danced a solo for the school dance concert.  I was really proud of how it turned out and so many people told me they loved it.

A friend asked me to be in a music video that she’ll be making for a class.

I’m going to Québec City on Friday, which I love.

I’ve heard from 5 out of the 12 schools I applied to, and got into all 5.

There were multiple pictures of me in the art show, which was kinda cool.

I did less than a wonderful job in all of my classes this past mod.

My room is still a mess, and my memory continues to be somewhat terrible.

And my romantic life is increasingly complicated and confusing.

. . .

I desperately want to go yarn-shopping.  I need to knit.

. . .

What would I do if I were told the world was going to end tomorrow?  I’m not sure.  What would anyone do?