As a result, I missed...
- the pub's drag show
- the WZLY birthday party (which I heard was bitchin')
- the convention which Stella and Christine went to without me (and I had been waiting A YEAR for it.)
- all of Saturday as I lay in bed without a computer (it broke) or my iPod (lost it) before spending four hours in the hospital to be reconfirmed of what I knew, that I did not, in fact, have a fracture (DAMN YOU HEALTH SERVICES)

I also cannot carry my own plates in the dining hall and so have been living off of microwavable and vending machine food.

On a more positive note, Stella and Christine bought me this:

It's a little belated, but...

Wikipedia:Today's featured article/March 31, 2007

From Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia

The New Carissa was a freighter that ran aground on a beach near Coos Bay, Oregon, United States, during a storm in February 1999 and subsequently broke apart. An attempt to tow the bow section of the ship out to sea failed when the tow line broke, and the bow was grounded again. Eventually, the bow was successfully towed out to sea and sunk. The stern section remains on the beach near Coos Bay. Fuel on board the ship was burned off in situ, but a significant amount was also spilled from the wreckage, causing ecological damage to the coastline. The United States Coast Guard performed an investigation and found that captain's error was the main cause of the wreck; however, no criminal liability was established and the captain and crew were not charged. There were significant legal and financial consequences for the ship's owners and insurer. There are plans in place to dismantle the stern section at its current site and remove it from the beach. (more...)

Sam found this song and played it for me yesterday on her radio show. It's about the New Carissa freighter and how it was so wonderful, but broke and ruined the sea.
Oh yes, that's me!

Slaves of modern technology, all of us.

P.S. The electricity in my room went out and won't be fixed until tomorrow either. I think I must emit EMP waves.

Term 4 PE Classes I will be taking:
Mondays and Thursdays
8:30 - 9:30: Hip-Hop Dancing
9:50 - 10:50: Step and Tone

Simply put:
Fuuuuuuuuck me.

Friendships growing stronger.
Relationships taking place.
Personalities expanding, changing.
Self-realizations. Learning from mistakes.

I look at myself and know I've come a long way since just the beginning of this school year. But I also know that I've only got two months left, and at this point, everything has come to a stagnant halt. I'm frozen the way I am. I've run out of the time and have reached the peak of my experience here. It doesn't feel right though. Other senior friends I have are ready to get out. They've experineced all they've needed to at Wellesley and they know the real world is waiting. It's not the same for me.

I came into Wellesley and spent the first three years building towards and living one life, and then entering senior year living an entirely different one. I'm a first year stuck in the body of a senior.

Part of me is happier than ever being the way I am now then the way I was for my first three years here.
Part of me wishes I had continued to live in ignorance and never changed--never realized a change needed to happen.
Physically, I'm so ready to leave. Emotionally, I need two more years.

This splurge of regretful, nostalgic psychobabble is probably due, in part, to "Mellon Collie and the Infinite Sadness" playing on repeat over my speakers.

One of those coupons you get in magazines where you tear it out, fill in your info, and can get a "56-issue subscription of Sports Illustrated for just $1.29 per issue." Scrawled all over it on one side, with thick green marker, was:

"SHITTY HANDS.
I GRIPPED BABY WAY JERSAYYY NJ OH OH OH OH OH
SEND ME SHIRT: ASAP.
MUST CONCEAL MY SHITTY HANDS."

On the other side was the drawing of a bugle. Anna said "it looks like a butt hole."

We all agreed: "DRUNK GIRLS AT THE HOOP WE LOVE YOU."

My next goal is to find that funeral parlor again where I threw the man into the incinerator. Directional skills are not inherent in my people.

I don't really mind all that much. They'll just know that I had really weird dreams as a kid (I chronicled my dreams obsessively), that I had weird crushes on cartoon characters, and that I really liked unicorns. But everyone knows those things anyway.

I got nostalgic today though and wanted to read what I had written in it. Ahhh. It better still be there tomorrow!