And There Was Much Rejoicing

More on B/3 today sometime I think.

Brief B/3 and LS break last night – The Demanding One had a pot luck.  Early on in the semester (perhaps the second day of Orientation) I was very intoxicated and had a conversation with TDO which I forgot.  I don’t think she’s fully forgiven me for this –  nor will she reveal the details of the conversation to me.  Thus I am hatching a complex scheme to get to the bottom of this – right now it involves Sodium Pentothal, pending any gentler kind of persuasion. 

I used to have a very cutting and critical tongue, which was the main reason for me to watch my drinking (from a social vantage).  I still do to some extent, but I’ve gotten less intense in my old age, less judgmental, so I feel more free to pass into the point of inebriation, especially with friends.  I think I’ve gotten silly-drunk about once a month since I’ve been here – mostly out of boredom.  (I get bored very easily.)  This is something I’ve been watching recently.  It’s probably not a problem, but I’ve decided to task myself on it anyway, just because I can.

Anyway, after dinner a slew of us, including TDO, Novel&Cookie, Sweet Tribulation, The Cool Hand, and Drums Her Own Beat, went dancing at some club to 80s music.  My feet are a bit sore this morning, but it was loads of fun.  It’s amazing – the amount of bad lyrics I have in my head.  I’m really not surprised at the supposedly great mental feats of some of the 19th century thinkers.  If I could wipe my mental hard drive of about 4000 song lyrics (let alone television plots, news which now means nothing, commercials), there’d be that much more room for something else. 

This morning, for some good lyrics (not that the bad ones weren’t fun) I’m listening to Suzanne Vega’s first album, specifically for “The Queen and the Soldier” – that beautifully picked acoustic guitar, her recurring theme of a desire for emotional/personal control coupled with fear of commitment to others/flexibility.  Often she contrasts this to just walking away from the impossibly conflicted, a skill, along with listening, that’s damnably hard to grow.  But I think I’m getting better at cultivating both in my old age.

Yesterday I was told that someone has a crush on me.  I feel quite flattered.  I'm afraid I'm only crushable from afar though.