May 1, 2001

May Day. Cool. Apparently, there are riots in London. Or so Chris said he expected in his email. He sounds like he's having fun in London. I'm kind of jealous, but at the same time I'm very much enjoying my downtime here at home. Even my mother did call me a freeloader the other day.

I have weird boy incidents to report. I hate weird boy incidents. Of course, one of them is nothing to worry about. It's just Craig, our crippled desperate poet. He and I were chatting and he asked if I was still in school. He said the name of the wrong school, and I pretended to be indignant. HE apologized and said to slap his hand. I just looked at his hand for a second and then, against my better judgement, I slapped him. He goes, "No one has ever touched me like that before."

I knew my cue. I walked away, Craig making some other innuendo behind me. Lisa followed me back into the show.

So that's my Craig story. I should have expected that. He's always like that. And he expects hugs. I didn't have to this time.

Then there's the guy from work last summer. He sent that damn email and then today I finally acknowledged him on ICQ. He was asking about work, as always since he doesn't talk about anything else. I told him I'm going away and all he had to say was, "Why?" and, "It would be really nice to work with you again..." Uh, right, because we really saw a lot of each other. From what I remember, the only times we worked the same shifts, I talked to other people and he may have been included in the conversation. I'm so angry because I see that he's built me up on this pedestal. It's silly. I used to do that, and even if I did get involved with him, I'd only hurt him. I don't need to deal with that. I don't want any complications. I want a nice, sane summer, which isn't what it started as.

But I'm trying to keep it in check. Because I know my trip is going to be a little crazy.

Speaking of crazy, I still haven't heard anything from Jimmy. I'm not worried about it. I don't think I'm going to make our planned rendez-vous with Luce and Chris in Montreal anyway. It's too bad, but I'll see them all soon after that anyway. And I'm worried more about bonding with my own department next year. It's my last year of journalism, and I have to be a journalism student primarily for a change. It should be interesting. I just wish I actually liked the people in my class and didn't have such high hopes for the one-year people. Even though I know that through it all, I will have Thelma there to be my confidant and partner in crime. It's so great that she got in, even if I'm looking at it that way for completely selfish reasons.

Oh. I got an A- in creative writing, even after all those dreams I had personifying the prof as the devil. It's a good thing I didn't hand the poem about that in as my last poem afterall.
© lily keller 2001 back current next

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