It’s Winter Break. The problem here is that I’m no longer in college, so I should no longer be celebrating with bar trips and catching up with old friends. I’m doing just that, though, out of a desperate desire to become a more social creature after an approximate year of hibernation. Nevermind that I’m incredibly depressed that I will be having drinks with a friend who has relocated to NYC and will only be reminded that I am stuck here. I do want to chat with her, but I also want to lock her in a closet and assume her life in the city. She’s thin and half Chinese, though, so I’m guessing that wouldn’t work too well.
The real inspiration for this post is not to talk about impending hang-outs, but one that has already taken place. A little background for you? From sixth grade through high school I adored this boy (we shall call him R). I never dated R, and with the exception of one drunken make out session, nothing productive came out of my nearly-a-decade-long crush. He graduated high school with me in 2003 and bounced around to several colleges before he found one that “stuck.” He’s slated to graduate in 2010. We haven’t been tight since we went to Bonnaroo–a group trip where I was Susie Sober and spoiled everyone’s fun by being slightly annoyed at the rampant drug use among the 80,000 people who were not nearly as dedicated to Radiohead as me. So anyway, R is home from Utah State right now, and I wanted to “catch up.”