You Would Make Such a Bitchy Jesus

So, 'tis Accepted Students Visiting Weekend, here at that oh-so-feminist Women's College.

Lovely idea in principle. It was, in fact, this visiting weekend that made my decision last year at this time for me to come here. However, now as a hosting residential student, I see another side.

My room, my lovely room, my room that I don't want to have to leave next semester and don't want to have to pack everything up from at the end of this one --- this room was crowded enough when my girlfriend (only one person) was staying here. I was given THREE prospective students to host for the night. Somethin' bless them, there they all are sleeping on the hardwood floor in sleeping bags. I remember that night well.

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Other than that, a mildly uneventful day. I had a visit from my father, which was lovely although too short. Short visits always make me wonder whether they are worth it. I love my parents very much, but when I see them for only a day (I'm from the other coast, so visits are rare and often it's because they have some business or other out here that isn't visiting me), it makes these feelings from home well up inside and sometimes I'd rather do without those. But then again, it's hard for me to feel that I don't want to see them. I've been remarkably lucky, I realize, to not have the experience very often of not wanting to be around my parents. I'm very grateful for that.

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For the sake of anyone reading this, I think I'll have to sign off on that ridiculous excuse for a conclusion. 8:30 french class calls for at least a midnight bedtime, especially when I have to drag three sleep-drunk prospies out of their sleeping bags to get them to their next destination by 7:45.

Wish me luck.