Dismantle. Repair.

I'm home. I wasn't going to leave til tomorrow, but I didn't feel like sitting still. I still don't feel like sitting still. I'm very restless and discontent. I want to be somewhere else. I want to be with other people, and the people I want to be with the most are the hardest to pin down.

On the bright side, I got to see Shmoe tonight! It felt so normal for him to be there, and I can't explain why; even when he was going to Go-Co last year, it wasn't like we hung out all the time. But somehow it was like he never left. We made pizza at his sister's apartment and I brought peanut butter brownies. I bring brownies to almost everything, and if not brownies, then ba-freakin-nana awesome bread or seven-layer dip. Pretty much I buy people's friendship with food. Ahaha, I hope that's not actually true. I just really like feeding people.

Anyway, after that we went to the Prancing Pony, which is the new "tavern" on campus. It's got a lovely atmosphere and really feels like the old-time pub from Lord of the Rings. There are only two problems. One, it's not actually called "the Prancing Pony," although all the cool kids call it that. It's actually named after our donor's cat, Chester, and when some kids decided to be funny and steal the "Chester's Place" sign, our donor got pissed and threatened to withdraw funding. Eek. The other problem is that it's not even a real tavern because they don't serve alcohol. I'm not saying I'd drink it, even if I was of age. But come on, people. As my poetry professor said one class, "Why don't they get a fake brothel on campus, too?"

I digress again. After the tavern, we went to Claymore, where a friend of Shmoe's and his sister's gave them free drinks. Good stuff. Claymore is where most of my meal points go these days. Heh. Throughout all of this, the crowd of people with us was dwindling until it was just me and Shmoe. We walked around and visited some people in Wilson and Rider. One of Shmoe's friends in Rider has covered his entire wall with bottle caps. It looks fantastic and I kind of want to cover my bedroom door with bottle caps so I can pretend I'm half as awesome as this kid.

A little before 10, Shmoe and his sister left for home and I decided to do the same. And here I am, ready for the next thing. I'm ready for another concert. The more you go to, the worse the withdrawal symptoms get. Ravin and I might go see Cobra Starship on Friday. That would rule. Unless it's all psychotic little girls like last time. Ugh.

Overall it was a good night. It was great to finally see Shmoe again. So why do I feel so discontent, like something just isn't right? Like I'm not doing anything with my time or with my life, and I never have anything to show for the things I bother investing in, and I feel like I'm constantly dismantling things and relationships and other people and myself without having any clue how to repair them.

Wow, emo shpiel. Sorry to dump that on you. I get this way every so often and you can't hold it against me; I'm a woman.