affectation.log

A new year. And I'm no longer a teenager. If I can curb my instinctual reactions and not say the first things that pop into my head all the time, maybe I can continue with that whole "growing up" thing.

Home was alright. Drank almost every night. Nothing topped the New Year's Eve Eve get-together, though. Some people had gone over to Jon's to hang out. We had some booze in preparation for a post-New Year's Eve party. [Others didn't want to spend much time at the party mentioned in the previous entry.] So we had booze, and we had people, so we began drinking. There were cards and videogames. It was the most fun I had all break. The other nights there were always people I didn't want to be around. And thus, I didn't want to get drunk around them.

Went snowboarding a couple of times. The first time we stuck to the same bunny slope we always do. Made a few runs that made me believe I was improving, but I ended the day by tumbling down the slope. So it was kind of a wash. The next time we went they'd closed the easy slopes and the only ones open were intermediates and black diamonds. What choice did we have? We went on the intermediates. First off, the lift up freaked us out, as we were going all the way to the top. Secondly, they were operating the snow machines all day. And Jon and I had neither goggles nor facemasks. So we went down pretty much blind, with the new snow stinging our faces. We ended up leaving the mountain for a while to go buy goggles, which definitely made the subsequent runs more bearable. The goggles didn't help us with the not falling, though.

Left Jersey this past Friday to go up to New Hampshire with Jon. Some people he knew had rented a house up there. There was a nice fire and booze. Aside from some awkward moments due to me testing these people's boundaries, it was fun. We didn't go snowboarding as it was rumored the high temperature was negative two degrees. Fahrenheit or Celsius? It'd be too goddamned cold either way. So we stayed in and drank.

So that leaves me here in Worcester, anxious about the coming term. Way too many things to do. I anticipate a lot of drinking and an even darker mood. Apologies in advance.

Some random girl IMed me tonight. I was actually at the computer so I didn't blow it off. She claimed she'd found me through Face The Jury. Which made me pause, 'cause I couldn't remember what I'd put as my profile. We talked for a while and it was pretty nice. I managed to not let her horrendous typing get to me. Even when it became apparent she meant to talk to someone else, she recovered admirably. [She meant to IM this guy, but just entered his FTJ username into AIM and ended up talking to me.] Her response was:


I know. Her spelling and lack of capitalization and punctuation made me cringe, but I kept talking to her. In the end, I blew it by being a dumbass. Employed a little too much self-deprecating humor, which she interpreted as fishing for compliments, and things spiraled out of control.

The girl isn't important, just some random FTJ user who couldn't type. The important thing is to learn from this mistake.

The time I've spent on this one assignment lately is far out of proportion with its relative importance.  It's a personal narrative essay for Elements of Writing.  At first I couldn't think of what to write about.  Out of desperation, I went with the night I met Abbie.  Now I can't stop revising it.  Could have something to do with the personal nature of the content, or perhaps the really cute girl who's in my peer review group.  Either way.

If anyone wants to read it, let me know.  [But if you do, don't just placate me.  Tell me what you really think.]  It's not completely in accordance with fact, but that's what you get with an unreliable narrator.  It was first titled "The Harsh Light of Day", but I didn't want the dual reference to some Buffy The Vampire Slayer episode and to the Fastball album.  A search on "The Cold Light of Day", however, only turns up two movies, both of which are about murder.  I'll go with that instead.  Plus there's what the line brings to mind for me...


Still too many things to do.  IQP, MQP, Adv. Calc. work...  I still have yet to come up with a sound design for the play in a couple weeks [the design's due Tuesday] and find people to be ushers for the play this weekend.  Sigh.

I ran out of shaving cream today.  Just so you know how little facial hair I grow, I got that can of shaving cream for free freshman year.  Three years ago.  So sad.

Today I tried to ask out Audrey.  She's the ridiculously cute girl in my Elements of Writing class mentioned in the previous entry.  And I fucked it up, marvelously.

So it's after class.  I go, "Hey, Audrey... Um... Uh... I— Uh..." etc., for a while.  At one point I say, "I was going to say something but... I can't remember what I wanted to say."  And she says it was maybe about Blade Runner, as that was the last coherent thought I expressed to her.  I say no, and keep stumbling for a bit more.  What I want to say is, "Hey, what are you up to this weekend?  I was wondering if you'd be interested in doing something this weekend," or something like that.  What comes out is, "You make me nervous."  Then she says, "I make you nervous?"  And she apologizes.

Well, shit.  Now I made her feel bad.  So I don't know how, but I extricate myself.  Or I just drop it and she decides to, too.  And I kind of blow out of there as fast as I can.  Fight or flight, you understand.

Sigh.  Winamp, with Brand New's "Failure By Design" followed up with Ellis Paul's "Sweet Mistakes".  Kicking me when I'm down.  God, why must I be such a wreck when it comes to girls?  Sorry, sorry.  I'm not doing well at the whole abstinence from self-abuse thing.

Well, either way.  The mundane details of ordinary life.  IQP continues.  MQP seems to have hit a wall where Alison and I are mad at each other and badmouth each other to third parties behind each other's back.  Whatever.  Classes continue.  Sound design... well, I need to get my ass in gear.  I was fired as house manager of the play this weekend, as it happens, without them telling me.  I actually got things together before I found this out.  So I just told everyone I'd just asked favors from [my potential cafe manager, my ushers] to drop it.  Fuck MWRep; if they don't feel the need to tell me I was fired, then I don't feel the need to help them out.

More mundanities.  Today in bowling class I rolled myself a 7-10 split, a 3-7-10 split, and a 5-7-10 split.  I didn't manage the spare on any of them, of course.  I might have gotten the 3 and 10 off the 3-7-10, but certainly didn't nail the others.  Ah, well.  Went bowling again at night.  Didn't do any better.  In fact, I did worse.  Bowling's just not one of my skills.  But that shouldn't stop me from getting credit for it.

The whole point of this entry was the first few paragraphs about Audrey... so I'm done.  And I've got enough alcohol in me to pass out comfortably.  Tomorrow, to New Hampshire for more.  Hurrah.  By the way, thanks to the two people who helped with the essay.  Two.