Day 391

This morning I woke up at 8 am. I was nervous for the meeting I was supposed to conduct on the behalf of the student association. The meeting went okay but the best part (besides the free snacks) was the fact that my favorite overzealous undergrad showed up. Not only is she amazingly excited she also brought cookies that she had baked herself when I didn't even ask her to bring anything. If she continues to show up I will never have to worry because no matter what happens at the meetings or how many people don't come I will always have one person who is excited to be there and be involved. But shit, what if she changes her mind...who knew I'd worry about 19 year olds ditching me.

My friend strolled into class today all glowing with happiness. Turns out that the guy she picked up in the gay bar when she was drunk turned out to be straight AND cute (despite her not remembering what he looked like). They had a wonderful time out last night. He actually articulated that he liked being around her and they had a sweet goodnight kiss. The entire time she was telling the story and sparkling in the afterglow of things that didn't for once happen in a shit-ish fashion I was super jealous and pissed off that she had a good date. A few minutes later I realized how ridiculous my jealousy was and told her how happy I am for her. I seriously am. But damn, for those few minutes I understood why people sometimes call me a bitch, and mean it.

Umm, so today I went to the bar with one of my professors and some people from my playwriting class. After a little while one of the people in our group said, "Hey! Look over there, it's a rat! And it looks like it's drunk!" We all turned to see the rat and laughed as it shook and stumbled around. A few minutes later we looked and the rat was dead.

A little while went by and we noticed the rat was gone. A couple of us at the table were rejoicing in the fact that it was still alive...until another at the table said, "No, the staff came and put it in a garbage bag." But, when all looked bleak a raccoon walked by and in some odd this-is-why-I-am-a-writer-to-justify-my-weird-thoughts-way I took it as a personal metaphor. The metaphor being I was a rat and now I am a raccoon and since I am an American the change in size alone means that I have upgraded to a new status. Weird, I know, but somehow I am not satisfied with the, "I went to the bar and there was a rat that died" story.

Tip of the Day: "Nothing will come of nothing." Fucking King Lear was right, do something.

-Canadian Castaway