The Freshman Experiment

Music: Primal Scream - Loaded

I know, I know, Valentine’s Day is completely commercialized and people shouldn’t need a day to show their loved ones that they care. I get all of this. I was never too keen on Valentine’s Day either, even when I was a girlfriend. But all of that doesn’t mean I didn’t smile when I almost walked over a bunch of carnations laying outside my door this morning, two of them from anonymous givers. And last night TK gave me a bar of chocolate that is halfway gone all ready.

I sort of feel bad about not getting anyone anything, but like I said, Valentine’s Day isn’t a huge thing to me. Also, I’m kind of upset because both Spaz and I had to cancel my visit; she’s going home for the weekend because she can’t stand it at her college right now and I have way too much work to get done. So, I’ll be staying here with the DeniseGirls, wallowing in my singledom.

Music: Collective Soul - Run

Mr.NG newly christened Wishy-Washy

Two days into winter session he called me to come over and I sat on his bed, messing up his folded clothes while he told me:

“Christine, I feel like we’re progressing towards a serious, committed relationship. The crazy thing is that I want that to happen but I also think I should be alone. If we’re together for a long time we’ll eventually break-up and then we’ll both have to nurse broken hearts and it’ll just suck. I think we’d have an awesome time together — it’d be great! I can’t see you anymore though.”

I gave him my biggest What the fuck are you talking about? face and went to my room. The last time I cried over a boy was a year ago when The Ex didn’t send a stampede over just my heart but my entire body. When we had broken up I had gotten physically ill. Wishy’s half-assed break up didn’t warrant the same dramatic response but I did cry a little into my pillow. The following days I talked TK’s ear off about the situation. Whenever I shut the fuck up about it for more than a minute he filled the silence with unwavering support for me and I realized that if I had TK I didn’t really need WW. Before he had ever come, before he had ran down my hallway, caught me on my way to the bathroom and kissed me I had been living well without a boy. My friends here have made me smile and love who I am; and if I’m missing a warm body, well, I can just snuggle up with one of the Denise Girls.

In just four days I had recovered and was ready to be out of the Gray Area that Wishy and I were trying to function in. Then in true romantic comedy fashion I opened my door one night and he was standing there, leaning against the wall with his dirty blonde hair tickling his eyelashes. I crossed my arms while he told me:

“All those uncertain feelings are still here, Christine, but you outweigh all of that. You’re amazing, you’re beautiful. You make me feel amazing. I don’t care what happens; in fact, I wish for all those things to happen.”

He then kissed me without really kissing me because my lips did nothing. I told him I had to think and that’s where things are. Part of me wants to drag him along and then another wants to run upstairs to his bed and finish counting his freckles. I’m a big believer in simplicity. I like him, he likes me, and so we should spend as much time as we can with each other. But he went and mucked things up and now…I just don’t know.

TK
If I could write TK’s Match.com profile it would be something like this.

Will make you smile even when you don’t feel like it, especially when you don’t feel like it. Doesn’t mind telling you if your shirt doesn’t match those jeans but will then wait fifteen minutes while you try on every single top in your closet. Dances to all types of music, including bad rap but his iPod is the only one that can be played at a party. He will let you sleep in his bed if the heat doesn’t work in your room; will stop talking to his mom or sister to give you a hug. Bring a box of Quaker Oats oatmeal to get to his heart. Tends to fall for the closet gays or boys who scream GAY GAY GAY but won’t admit to it themselves. So you must have all ready accepted the fact that men are your preference before courting my dear, old TK. DISCLAIMER: While I’m only 5′2 I will seriously maim you if you hurt him.

Wishy’s indecisiveness has momentarily steered me away from my one mission which is Operation Get TK Laid. At a party he will scout out the potentials and I will either approve or disapprove. Man, we’re creepy.

Christine

I’ve decided to get training for the Sexual Assault and Rape Hotline (SARH) at LAC. Training sessions are intense - twice a week for two hours. I’ve also volunteered at the local homeless shelter and I’ve decided to work with the children. On Saturday I have seven hours of training to go through (!!!) but I’m excited. I’m finally filling up my schedule, so hopefully you readers won’t think I’m a lazy ass who sits around and complains about boys all day.

Music: Jimi Hendrix - Foxy Lady

The charger came!

I’ll be back from class around 1ish and then I’ll start writing an obnoxiously long blog about Mr.NG’s craziness (whose name should be changed to WishyWashy or Intense-Fear-of-Committment-Boy), TK’s exploits, and my own noteworthy incidents. Winter session means one class so that means more alcohol coupled with long bouts of downtime. Obviously, shit’s all ready hit the fan - more than once actually.

Music: Broken Social Scene - Lover’s Spit

I was a one-woman comedy show today at the bus terminal as I unsuccessfully tried to carry four pieces of luggage plus a purse and my pillow. I was crashing into people, dropping my gym bag that was partially open (by the way, it is awkward to have a 15-year-old pick up your bra, rub his grimy fingers all over it and then hand it back to you with an up and down look that says “I wonder what this covers.”), and appeared flustered in every way. After seriously considering giving one of my suitcases of clothing to a homeless woman a benign man offered to carry my things to the bus. Here’s to being tiny and pathetic looking - people take pity on me and I accept it with no shame.

Around 10:45 a.m. we pulled away and I settled in for my four hour ride where I would then get off and get onto another bus. At least that was the plan. At 3 o’clock the driver announced that we were twenty minutes from the last stop when suddenly he pulled over and ran outside. Five minutes later I was pissed and groaning along with the other passengers. Finally the driver got back on the bus and said “We’ve had a minor accident. We can’t leave until the cops get here and they won’t get here for another…hour.” So after wishing malaria on him I calmed down and called Mamajay to tell her I was definitely missing my 3:30 transfer. The other party in the accident who insisted on holding up a bus with fifty-five people (!!!) was a man who didn’t even have his license or valid insurance on him. Fucking Idiot.

The cops strolled in at FIVE P.M., did absolutely nothing and then made the bus driver wait another half hour so they could get everyone’s name and age (???). My patience was non-existent; I called or texted everyone to keep myself from crying out of frustration. Mr. NG thought it was “really cool” that I was stuck and I should go have myself an adventure. Uh, no. I excused his craziness on account of a minor surgery he had on his leg yesterday, meaning his mind was swimming in painkillers. Then I texted The Ex for no reason at all. Surprisingly, he seemed happy to hear from me and we decided to get together for lunch next week. I am very wary of this. Finally, I called TK to bitch and he loyally endured my rant. We figured out that we were both going to the same terminal for our other transfers, a fact that would come in handy.

5:32 p.m. Fucking Idiot gets ticketed for driving without a license and insurance, and we pull out into traffic. A twenty minute trip turned into an hour. I get off the bus only to be smacked in the face by a huge, overwhelming terminal. My hands get shaky as I look around for help and it came in the form of TK. I almost cried when I saw him. Noticing my lost puppy dog face he swings my luggage around his shoulders and takes control. Ten minutes later he’s buying me a ticket for the 7 o’clock bus from the self-service machine while instructing me to call the company for a refund.

This is where I almost cry again because TK may possibly be the best person I know. Just his presence calmed a nearing panic attack, but then he goes further than a friend has to. He knows when I need help and he does it without question. How did I get lucky enough to find him? How does anyone get lucky in their friendships?

Well, I’m home. My room, which was taken over by my sister over Thanksgiving break, has been given back to me. Mamajay and Dean pulled up the stained carpet, bought me new blankets and pillows and promised that it would be finished by the time I come back for spring. My arrival was much better than last time.

I carefully put down my bags, sat on my bed and cried. I cried because tonight I felt how much TK cares about me, that he’s willing to let me be dependent on him and not ache from the weight of my head on his shoulders. I cried because Mamajay ran to hug me and before I crept to my room she told me how glad she was that I was here. I cried because Dean loves her new job and wants to eat breakfast first thing tomorrow. I cried because my family and my friends have lived up to their duty towards me. I hope I have to them.

Music: Mika - Big Girl, You are Beautiful (this is the best song to dance to, big or small.)

Mr. NG, TK, and I were walking along the mud stained snow. NG was going to a party while me and TK were going to get low-key tipsy in a friend’s dorm room. The three of us rounded the corner when TK grabbed my elbow and whispered “oh, fuck…” Five seconds later she ran up to us, gesticulating, playfully screaming at us for not telling her we were going out. She’s NG’s friend but…no friend of mine. She’s too loud, too boisterous, too IN YOUR FACE. I think I’ll name her Spicy.

Anyway, she’s ranting on and on, and I’m trying to telepathically tell TK to run in the other direction. Suddenly, NG looks at my pained expression then Spicy’s big movements and he pushes her into the snow! (I can’t begin to explain how hilarious this was. She’s yelling, yelling, yelling, and then she’s flying through the air. I can now revel in the fact that my Boyfriend-y-ish-Person would do that for me.) Well, she thinks he’s playing around and runs after him laughing and I know a getaway when I see one, so I pull TK along and we get outta there fast.

I can’t go into this weekend’s drama just yet because it involves TK and I need to get his permission to post about it (very ambiguously) online. I will say that going to a small college is a bit reminiscent of high school because your business becomes everyone’s business within three days. Gossip flies but the difference is that no one makes fun of you for it. So everyone may know what freshman girls have slept with half the football team but no one stops hanging out with them. Also, to my chagrin, Spicy makes another unwanted appearance, in fact, she was the starter of the drama.

I suspect she’s going to be in this blog more and more. I mean, it’s me and her in her Facebook profile picture so I know she thinks our “friendship” is a long-lasting, invite-me-to-the-wedding kind of thing. ;-)