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Ooh, barracuda.
On 2001-11-14 at 8:15 p.m.... More than a week? Oh, Diaryland. I'm so sorry. I'm either trying to stay afloat in a sea of books (which is not as easy as you might think), or I'm at practice, because I stupidly agreed to be in the team for this tournament in a few weeks, the ins and outs of which I have no idea about. Really, no clue. I, like the keen English schoolboy I am, just said: 'Okay! I'll do it!', and now I'm sort of stuck with it. Hence, a moral: never do anything before deliberating until it's too late. And that's why they don't call me Aesop. So I found myself homesick the other day. More friend-sick, actually. I spoke to my materfamilias, and she said: 'Oh, nothing's changed, don't worry.' She didn't understand that that's the point. But, right. It'd be handy to have a barometer of such things. You know: 'you have become this much more independent', 'you are this much less crushingly dull', or 'you stand this much chance of being happy'. It really doesn't help when your heart goes out of state, and I am leaving that clause in there, purely because I am suddenly in awe of my ability to write 80's soft-rock lyrics. The saving grace, though, is the amount of facile fun I'm having. Next time I think I might expound upon the political differences in a University environment, and believe me, there are lots. A girl I live with (I live among mostly freshmen. I'm 20. I watched Dawson's Creek without shame the other day) said that she was thinking of transferring to a more conservative (small 'c') college. I thought, 'good luck finding one'. Really, that kind of standard is so different in the States. Anyway, facile fun beckons, as does my audition for Heart.
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