Don’t answer that.
Needless to say, my life has been more than a bit of a ride lately. I’m thoroughly back into the swing of life here at Crunchy College. Want a crash course update?
Alright. But before we begin I just want to make sure everyone is seating with their safety belts fastened. Please keep your hands inside at all times.
Here we go, kids.
Things with Misfit have settled down. That’s due in part because I stopped thinking like a little girl at a candy store and in part because he stopped taking off his shirt and trying to climb on top of me. So it appears now that we’re just trying to be friends. It is actually working quite well, especially since I’ve recently become friendly with some of his friends—Taco*, Bearded**, and Uncensored***. Those budding friendships have worked out quite nicely for Misfit and I because we’re no longer stuck in the small, far too cerebral box we had been in.
Westchester is also joining in on a bit of the new friend fun with Taco and Uncensored. Her and Uncensored have taken a bit of an infatuation with each other. I wouldn’t categorize it as “like,” because neither of them are the other’s type. But for the time being they’re enjoying things. And as long as it doesn’t go much further I’m happy to sit back in Taco and my vomit nest and watch movies while they giggle and coo.
Rugby season is in full swing now with at least one game almost every weekend.
And we’re back into all our old traditions—Hello Jello, socialing, checking out the opposing men, and playing with puppies while people knock the shit out of each other.
It wasn’t long into the first rugby weekend that I realized my endurance has gone to hell. What happened to the girl that could eat a bowl of oatmeal, drink all day, pass out for a couple of hours, then wake up and drink all night? I miss her. There won’t be a game this weekend, but I’m not too terribly broken up about it. We’re out of jello mix anyway.
The Minimalist and I are still thick as thieves. Sometimes, when I really think about it, I get far too freaked out. Sometimes, like after I leave his humble abode, I feel all warm and fuzzy inside. But regardless of any fuzziness I may be feeling there will be no FaceSpace titles coming anytime soon. Well, unless they suddenly create a “fucking” or “following around” one. We decided the day those pop up we’ll make it official.
But that seems unlikely anytime soon. So in the mean time we’re just doing what we do best—drinking too much, engaging in PDA, bickering, and being disgustingly cute. And while I’m sure most trained mental health professionals would say this isn’t the healthiest type of relationship for, the Minimalist doesn’t object and he is in the process of becoming a trained mental health professional. That counts, right?
Oh, and I’m also going to classes. Three classes plus the paper makes me a very busy, very caffeinated girl. I’m falling in love with French, getting slightly burnt out with editing, and managing to hold my own in a probably too advanced English class. I’m getting into the thick of midterms, which is the time every semester that I first question the value of a college degree and think it would just be easier to sell weed for the rest of my life. I’ve also recently started watching old episodes of Weeds, so that could have something to do with it, also.
Either way, my days are slightly less fun than they should be right now. But don’t worry, kids, because my nights are still plenty fun. And plenty wine-tastic.
*Taco-my neighbor who has a love of virgins and the ability to nuzzle like a puppy.
**Bearded-another neighbor, this one tall and slightly mysterious. And he has an extensive sweater collection.
***Uncensored-yet another neighbor. This is has a love of hardcore music, skinny jeans, and scary movies.