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Whiny and mopey

So why the devil am I still here? I checked email and whatnot yesterday, I did
all of that before, so what on earth possessed me to come out here again
today? Is it because I can only feel connected to people back home online? Is
it in somewhat vain hope that there will be a message from those I love, whom I
miss so much? (I say somewhat vain, because I have gotten several messages
from people which have brightened my mood considerably. However, it just makes
me crave more.) Is it because I'm bored out of my skull, and trying to save
money, and coming online is one of the cheaper pastimes at this point?

Why am I so hung up about going home? I've been homesick before, of course -
every time I moved. But I don't remember feeling quite like this - I don't
remember watching for messages or communications from my friends. Maybe it was
lack of communications outlets before - little to no email, etc. Maybe it's
because I'll be coming back for the first time. Maybe it's because I got the
impression from people that they actually wanted to hear from me, and would
reciprocate, before I left. Who knows? I just know that I'm feeling very much
like I want people here. And like I'm whining like nobody's business. I
wouldn't be surprised if I got some random anonymous note telling me to just
get over it, because I'm wasting valuable time writing and whining. Hell, if I
read my diary, I'd probably be the one to leave said note.

I guess it would be different if I felt like I wasn't going to see everyone
again, like after the moves. I never expected to see any of those folks again,
and for the most part I haven't. But I'll be coming back, which is vaguely
frightening in and of itself. There's going to be so much I just don't get,
because I wasn't there when things happen. Connections and relationships are
being created, strengthening, breaking, all around there - and I won't
understand any of it when I get back. The dynamics will shift, and I won't
know where I stand anymore. Not that I ever really knew where I stood to begin
with, but even less so now.

I feel a bit like I'm ranting into a void, which is a somewhat comforting
feeling - on the one hand, there's no one to judge me, tell me to get a life,
to just shut up, or anything like that. On the other hand, I feel a bit like
it just doesn't matter to anyone but me. Which is most likely true - if you
think about it, there are few people who care about your rantings and ravings
as much as you do. So I don't really expect anyone to really read and digest
everything written here - besides, this has gotten to be my longest diary ever,
and I've only had it since March or so. I'm long-winded, and rambly. No one
really needs that. Maybe I should just make this diary private...I don't know
at this point. I'll figure something out someday.

In other news, my alcoholic virginity was taken last night. That's right,
Stephie had her first drink - a shot of butterscotch Shnopps and Baileys, going
by the name of a Stiff Dick. A group of us went pub-hopping, and I'd been
thinking about this for awhile, taking a drink. In general, the smell of
alcohol has not been kind to my stomach - wine makes it do really interesting
backflips, and that's just when I barely wet my lips with it. Here, though, I
felt like it wouldn't be as big of a deal as it would be back home - after all,
I am one of the co-organizers of the Substance Free floor, for crying out
loud. Here, though, I'm not known as one of those who looks down on the poor
fools who go out and get drunk, but I'm just one of the group. I don't think I
had it just to fit in - Chip, another guy in our little group, doesn't drink
either, since he promised his grandmother he wouldn't until he turns 21 next
month - but because I wanted to give it a shot, so to speak. It went down
fairly easily - my stomach wasn't the happiest it's ever been, but not the most
upset, either. I don't think I'd want to go out and get drunk, but a half-pint
of cider or somesuch once in awhile, I don't think would hurt me. Who knows?

I have no idea how long this entry is going to be, or anything. Like I said,
I'm long-winded and rambly. Bret, you can attest to that fairly well. Why
anybody would bother to read all of this, I'm not entirely sure. But then, why
do people read other's diaries in the first place? Why do people write them at
all? Particularly in a public forum? OK, enough of that. I'm not going to go
philosophical on anybody - nobody deserves that. To sum up: I miss people,
and am feeling rather pathetic and just sitting here and staying online. So I
think I'm going to go home and do laundry, or something. Yeah. So very sad.

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