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Just the Highlights

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May. 3rd, 2004 | 11:18 pm

1). Yummy House has the fastest delivery ever. 6 minutes, people. 6.

2). Today was my last day of classes. In my college career. And strangely, I'm going to miss college a lot more than I ever missed high school. There are so many people here that I love, and it feels like I will never see them again in quite this same capacity, and many with whom I will lose touch. It makes me reflect on how this has all been an amazing journey and an amazing experience and how it is wrapping up how I would like it to -- with good friends and love and joy (and a lot of papers, but we're ignoring those for the moment).

When I graduated from high school, I was sad for things that related to the dance studio, to my dance life. I cried on my last day of teaching the kids I'd taught for four years. And I cried at my dance recital, because the studio had been such a part of my life for the 9 years that I was there. It was a love-hate relationship, admittedly, but it was this sort of fixture that was always there, and that would still be there if I wanted it back.

There's something strange about high school -- you know there will be high school reunions, so you can say goodbye without being so desperately emotional because you know that you'll see all of these people in one way or another. College is not so much like that -- graduation has this remarkable finality, as if an epoch of your life is coming to an end and the time you've had has seemed so long as it happened and so short when it ends. Plus, I know I'm terrible at keeping in touch with people, and will have ever so many people to miss when I move away.

I'm glad I have the summer to say goodbye.

I want to write more on this topic, but right now, I don't have the mental or emotional energy to really examine it and reflect as I would like. I have done more than enough writing for one day, having written 15 double-spaced pages of two papers in the past 24 hours.

3). I am beginning to feel that I must have a flashing neon sign over my head saying "please, talk to me and ask me out." Yesterday, I had the man in Barnes and Noble, and today was a random man on the street... who walked with me from Broadway and Astor Place to 4th Avenue and 14th Street, telling me about the book he'd written, then asking if I had a boyfriend, then telling me that I "need a man to hold me in his arms and treat me well," which perhaps I do, but this particular gentleman wasn't the man to do it.

I will give him credit for his persistence, though. He asked me many times to go out, for my number, all the rest. In the end, I gave him an old phone number... so some poor person living in one of my old dorm rooms will probably be receiving a phone call later this week. But at least it won't be me.

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