I've lost track of how long I've been here.
three days or four months, I still won't know where north campus is.

we're lost souls, we're kindred spirits. we're discovering ourselves and the deeper meanings and how to smuggle alcohol in Clorox containers. we're here to find the answers. but we can't stop questioning. can I make friends make the grade make something new of myself? maybe if I don't drink and don't party and don't try I'll pull through...untouched.

can I start over and make this my home? am I brave enough to get used. to this. to become the norm. a statistic. one more in the ratio (6:1 for the girls, but more like 8:1 with all the boys in theatre.)

or maybe I'm just scared to let myself get comfortable, no one else seems to like this, why am I enjoying myself. maybe it hasn't hit yet or I haven't given myself the chance but someone said I'd be perfect here, and I haven't sat alone at lunch yet, book in hand... my promise to Cait.

but I don't hate it. we're Oscar and Felix, we're the young and the restless. Thelma and Louise without the driver's liscence. I may not be thin enough of blonde enough or, god knows, tan enough, but I'm not typecasted yet. I saw a play and conquered the internet; I'm a space cowboy, I'm your worst nightmare, baby. I have four years to become a real person, or at least that's what the pamphlets tell me. just 120 credits and free delivery on weekdays. my books are ordered and bags unpacked and the AAs have already fallen off the welcome wagon. how to get ahead in class? laugh at all his jokes. bring him teriaki and tell him he has beautiful eyes. but whatever you do, don't mention the Salem Witch Trials.


it's really not so bad here...



...but I still love you more than college.

ash @ 10:36 PM