Like hallway conversations

This may be the first post before midnight in a while. Go me! I've decided in the interest of actually managing to write something every night (which is harder than I expected) I can't completely avoid the mundane details of my everyday life or I get to soapboxing which is fun for the moment but I feel rather like a pompous jackass the next day. And I don't particularly enjoy that, but it seems contrary to my purposes to edit so much after the fact. This doesn't mean I plan to stop completely, I suppose I'm just going to give myself a little more freedom to write whatever I feel like at the moment I sit down to write. Show, not tell. We'll see (once again, or perhaps, as always) if I will ever find success.

I want to further the CrazyNomad shoutout to Weredog since that's pretty amazingly awesome. I'm assuming he meant the Chicago program which is even more awesome especially if we end up sticking around for a long long time, but that's a purely selfish angle.

I feel like I ought to apologize (never apologize!) for being fairly mopey in my writing recently but I'm currently confirmed at 0 for 5 and highly suspect it's as high as 0 for 7. Which leaves me with 5, but I don't have much hope for them. So we'll see. It's pretty painful to get three letters on the same day and I definitely had a bad end of the week as a result. All of us in the program are not doing well with our applications and either it's proof that in fact we're not very good at what we do, or the advice to only apply to the top programs was too optimistic for our purposes. But it won't be all said and done for another few weeks so we'll see. Chilly-o, as they say.

I did have a good evening today oddly enough to do nostalgia more than anything else. One of the girls on my winter league team invited us for dinner to her dorm apartment so we went and had freshly made butternut squash ravioli, spinach salad, sweet potato fries, garlic bread, chocolate peanutbutter rice puffs, and pumpkin cookies. Lots of tasty orange food. And while the sitting around and eating and watching snippets of the Olympics and telling people the story of my engagement was all fine and good, it was after when we were sitting in the hall trying silly contests and having random conversations that took me back to first year in Woodward Court, hanging out by Charity's room chatting until she came out to holler at us, or watching Dan and Don debate or seeing Matt hang his head in his hands, professing to be ashamed that I saw him drunk. As much as we had good in-room sitting time the hall was somehow more open and intimate at the same time. I remember crying one night to Adeoye in the hall (and maybe others) about my conflicted relationship state, and playing barefooted soccer or broomball after house meetings. The hallways in palevesky were too wide and dim and broken by the recessed doorways to be useful, and the suites too easy to disappear into. But Woodward Court was perfect, and holds so many good memories from where it all seems to have begun. Tonight I was with people I see once a week for a few hours and hardly know, but the night brings a certain sense of privacy and a relaxing of inhibition that spurred on our race walking and wall sit challenges - that allowed us to hear the story of how dingleberries got his name, and how Aneta has to wake up her roommate every day at 5:20am since she sleeps through her alarm. Silly trifles or random philosophy. Almost every day I feel like some kind of interloper on this campus, living a strange half-life, but tonight that all fled for a few hours.

I hope we do this again some time.