March 7, 1999.

So as you can deduce from my continued web presence, the power didn't go off. We all counted down around the teevee, waiting for at least a token flicker in the juice, but nothing. It was so anti-climactic that nobody even wanted to kiss for faux-New Year's. Ironically enough, when I got home I needed to resent my clock anyway - but only because I'd turned off the power bar to protect the computer from possible surges before I went to the party.

It was an okay experience. Not the best that the Saints have ever had, but it was okay. I missed the Boy quietly. Presented Guy with my black boa at some point, and he liked it immensely. It was most strange to watch him play chess in it, tho'. The boys from the Slanty Shanty appeared in black looter warpaint, which looked effective on Beowulf, but lost some of it's punch on Britboy (the Brit pop-obsessed computer science major).

Ian showed up at my behest and made a wonderful impression on everyone (who all kind of knew him around campus). With his characteristic bluntness, he innocently characterized my lace-up dress and fishnets as "gothy skank"...as in "wow, I've never seen you all done up like this. You look like a gothy skank." I made him writhe for the rest of the night (never say that I'm not a vindictive person). Watching Ian drunkenly tongue kiss a girl last night was roughly the equivalent of watching my younger brother do the same - I couldn't repress a shudder at having his asexual image exploded.

Other than that, the big scandal of the night came along with Tymothi:J: it seems his girlfriend never broke up with any of her boyfriends, has never told any of them about her relationship with the others, and has been carefully lying and planning her time so that she could sleep with up to 5 of them simultaneously. Obviously, this came as something of a surprise to Tymothi:J, who was utterly infatuated with her and thought that they were in a serious, monogamous relationship. What do you say to somebody who's just been betrayed to that extent?

If you don't yet think that I'm a mean bitch, this should be the end of that foolish notion. Last night I came in at 3 am, happy and ready to get in a good 9 hours of sleep before writing an essay. (That's the other thing - with no power outages & looting, I suddenly have to hand in an essay on Monday after all.) What do I find? The Roommate and 2 of her po-faced hippie friends, playing records in the living room, watching teevee and messing with the guitar.

One of the things that I find really frustrating (and boring) about the Roommate's social circle is their seeming incapability to converse with someone not hanging out with them. I've tried conversational overtures before, only to be met with a blank stare that somehow makes me feel like I'm the idiot who doesn't belong. (This isn't the bitch part - wait for it.)

So anyway, two typical examples of these boring po-faced hippies (hereafter referred to as BPFHs) are in my living room, the room separated from my bedroom by a tissue-paper thin wall that often conducts sound better than it blocks it. I got ready for bed in the most conspicuous way I could, hoping that the problem would solve itself. No dice. I put in my earplugs...and could still hear their conversation, their CD, their aimless guitar playing. I went next door to politely ask when the festivities would be wrapped up. My roommate responded belligerently, but grudgingly agreed to turning down the music. I put in my earplugs and went into alcohol freefall.

Cut forward to 5:30. I'm awakened by noise. Seems that my earplugs have fallen out, and the BPFHs are still in the other room. One of them has been holding forth in the same monotonous voice ever since I came home. He never runs out of things to say - except when I enter the room, of course. 'This is fucking ridiculous,' I think 'how long is their stupid gathering going to continue?' Again, I went next door and requested quiet, mentioning my essay and generally presenting the picture of aggrieved virtue. I was met with silence.

As I go back to my room, my pulse starts pounding with annoyance. 'One word of complaint,' I think 'just one word, you bitch. How dare you do this shit and then act all justified when I never do this to you, and when I've been doing all the fucking chores since New Year's?' It takes me awhile to settle down & sleep, even with the earplugs.

At some point in the morning, I'm woken up by their noisy departure. Even though I know that she never locks the door when I'm sleeping, I can't be bothered to get up & correct it. When noon finally rolls around, there's a knock on the door. Her parents came in hundreds of miles to see her, and apparently she'd forgotten. They'll make her feel rotten enough for all of us...and I don't even have to get my kharma in a knot. I listened sympathetically to her mother, while inwardly rejoicing. 'Some things do balance out,' I thought, and 'ha ha.'

And that's why I'll never win Miss Congeniality.