(I wrote this last night. As I say below, my internet failed last night, and I couldn't post. Things have changed since my friend Lily showed up this morning, but I haven't edited this. These are my exact thoughts regarding my first day)
For the first time, I am writing an entry from my room at CSUMB.
I am at college.
I suppose this is the first day of the rest of my life or something like that. I don't know. I haven't had any life-changing epitomes yet, so I'm afraid this won't be a post imparting my new-found ultimate wisdom. I just wanted to catalog this day. For myself. I want to store my thoughts so that I can revisit them for the rest of my life, the way I did on my first day of sophomore year.
I want to remember the awkward, short and reassuring phone conversation I had with Lily, the girl I met in June at orientation. We didn't talk about anything important. I called her twice, and she didn't pick up. Ten minutes later she called back, telling me she'd been on the road and hadn't been able to answer. She didn't quite remember who I was (her roommate is also named Rachel). I wanted to ask if she'd go to the ice cream social with me and see the showing of Star Trek afterwords, but she's not here: she's staying in a hotel tonight and checking in tomorrow. I told her I was sorry for wasting her time on a useless call, that I had nothing to say, that I was just lonely. She told me that any time I felt lonely I could call her.
I'm going to complain about my laptop's location. There's no support for my elbows as I write, and I have to pause every few minutes to let them rest. I'm moving it right now.
I want to remember how cozy my first dorm looks. The walls are plain white and boring, but I have my FMA and Watchmen posters taped up, as well as some christmas lights strung up above my bed (the scotch tape is holding so far). I have designated the top shelf of my desk as my 'special things' shelf, and have my blue cork board and most of my stuffed animals arranged comfortably there. The bed spread is very color coordinated. I took two pictures of the room with my phone.
I should thank my mom be being so fantastically good at planning. Right now, I am snacking some frosted mini-wheats and drinking apple cider (my water heater works fine). I have almost everything I need, largely thanks to her. Only exceptions: a bathroom mat, an alarm clock, nail clippers, a swimming suit, and a cell phone charger. Not her fault at all; no one can think of everything.
I've decided that while having a single room is rather lonely, it's nice to be able to listen to SR-71 without my headphones (quietly, of course. It is
1:30 in the morning, and I don't want to be a dick).
I ought to write about the unsatisfying time I had at the ice cream social tonight. I hung out with a small group I met in the ice cream line: 4 girls, 2 boys. All of them older than me, mostly seniors (one an RA for the North quad). I inserted myself in their conversation as best I could. They knew a lot of people I don't. They didn't stay for the movie. I only remember one of their names: Nicky, the RA. After they left, I attached myself to a group of kind of nerdy sophomore girls, and sat with them for the movie. We didn't talk much, and they didn't say goodbye when the movie ended. I don't expect I'll see any of them again. The ice cream was good.
I'm going to say that I feel just a tiny bit nauseous.
I want to tell you how damn good the shower I just took felt. Just the right temperature. I feel fantastically clean.
I'm going to be thinking about the breakthrough I had in my story tonight. I fleshed out Arin's backstory, made it particularly tragic (note to self: his name is Anderson Sphincter).
I'll just quickly mention that Zachary Quinto is a fantastic Spock (and severely hawt). But, while the whole cast is awesome, I've decided that Bones is my favorite character.
I need to complain about the internet connection. It's supposed to be wireless, but it keeps timing out, even though it says I'm connected. I think maybe there's just too many people online now. There doesn't seem to be an ethernet plug in my room. I don't expect I'll be able to post this tonight because of connection fail. If that's how the connection in my room is always going to be like, I'm going to go nuts. Gorram it.
And Finally, I want to call attention to the title of this entry. Please don't think me depressed or discontented in any way. It's a quote from Neil Gaiman's novel American Gods, and, in context, is rather funny. And, in my case, ironic (hey, you're reading this aren't you?).