So, I don't know whether I have much to say or not... but it's been a month since my last entry, so there's got to be something worth writing...

Eh.. You really don't have to read any of this. Skip to the end if you want, fun question about crossing your own timeline.

On the night of 31 December 2010, I cried myself to sleep. The next morning, after having (for the first time I can remember) been asleep for the turning of the year, I felt far better than I had any right to feel mere hours after learning of the unexpected death of a beloved pet. There must have been something incredibly cathartic in that one final loss, which so closely followed my breakup with my best friend, the departure of the girl I loved but barely knew, and doubtless numerous minor woes I no longer remember.

And that's good. It's good for me to be away from the Internet for a while. Oh yes.

Tonight I went to a Victorian Christmas Ball. It was exactly like the Civil War Ball, except that nobody I know was there and one guy apparently did not understand that 'Victorian Christmas Ball' did not mean 'Steampunk Party.'
Since nobody I know was there, I danced with a different stranger every dance. A lot of my past partners would exchange smiles with me later in the evening, but none of us ever conversed beyond 'May I have this dance' and maybe a quick 'Hi my name is.'

Well, at last the roommate problems are starting to actually be problems. This may call for a lightsaber duel. This is why I'm glad I got a triple room.

Stuff taken from Oma's house today (just for me):
- a queen-sized red comforter for my bed at home
- a fountain pen, without ink
- a map of the world
- a drawing-compass set
- a dead scrub-jay
- a ball of general-purpose string which we will actually use; we had some string like it once and we used it all and between then and now we didn't have any good string in the house

Yet another reason CSU Rivendell is wonderful. We have apiculture. That means beekeeping, by the way. And today in my entomology lab we went to see the bees. And I got to take a handful of honeycomb straight out of the beehive and eat it right there, wax and all.

And it was like in every chocolate advertisement ever, where a woman takes a bite of chocolate and this look of chocolate bliss spreads over her face.

That is all.

Not sure I've ever had such an unremarkable holiday. Probably have, but I've forgotten, it being thoroughly unremarkable and all. But these past three days nothing has happened that I've never done before, I've taken no photographs, written nothing.... just nothing worth documenting, and my family documents everything. My parents took some photos, just because they document everything, but even then I wondered why. Just Mom cooking Thanksgiving feast for the four of us - just us four this year, and the most stress-free Thanksgiving Mom can remember.

Random positive journal....

It's Thursday night. (That's happened to me before, hundreds of times.)
I'm done with classes for the week.
I never left campus since Sunday.
I used all of my meal credits for the week. This is a bigger deal than it sounds.

Caught a glimpse of Grey in passing.
She still exists. I still love her. I hadn't been sure until then, after a year, five months, and odd days.

It's either awesome or just bad, I'm not sure. 'Cause I've been going to the theatre way too much. But I love it. Saw Picasso at the Lapin Agile last night, it was fantastic; saw Weird Al sometime last week, also spectacular; will be seeing MacHomer sometime this week, et cetera.

Hello. I'm the Doctor.

The younger one. The older one? The handsome one! The, er, the less geeky one?
The one on the left. Your left, I mean, his right. My right. I am he and he is me and all that, coo coo k'choo.
The one with the specs and the banana. Bananas are good.

My roommates used to call the three of us 'the Flat-Chested Virgins of Room 104,' but after this weekend I'm going to be the only one left, because Zephyr has never actually been flat-chested and Leah went to visit her boyfriend this weekend with the understanding of not coming back as a virgin.

In my biology class, we raised butterflies, and I took two butterflies once they had pupated, and for days now the butterfly named Victoria has been trying to rape the butterfly named Rumpelstiltskin. Also, Rumpelstiltskin has laid eggs, and I have no idea what to do with them.

(There was supposed to be a picture here of me wearing a bowtie. But that didn't work. Alas. This journal just lost its entire purpose without that picture.)

Oh yes.

(But now since I can't show you that photograph, which would have been the entire journal pretty much, I guess I have to actually write some stuff.)

Last night there was a sort of meeting for our floor - most people didn't go, but still - at which a few issues were discussed.

We hadn't seen each other in six years. The six years before that we were best friends. A mutual acquaintance had told her I was at this school, so she recognised me, despite how different I probably look. I had no idea she was here - I noticed that that girl looked like her, but thought no, it couldn't be. To me, after six years, it was like she no longer existed. Not possible just to meet her in passing.

And yet there she was. 'No way,' I said.

Her freckles are gone.

A third of our lives so far we were together, and then a third apart. I wonder what will happen from here.