Aiyee, the Game.  Sooo much fun, but sooo unbelievably hard!  My brain greatly desires to leap out of my ear and fry on the pavement for a while, but I'm so caffeinated there's no way I can sleep.  So I'm just miserably up and hanging around until XO retreat times, where I have to go try to act like a normal person whom 34 normal girls might want to be friends with.  And if Game-related brain death wasn't enough, I FAP-d myself (oho, it's not me wallowing, it's instinct) into a bad mood thanks to the unfortunate mix CD Tom had on incessant loop as we raced around the Bay Area...by like the 4th time through, Travis either noticed me muttering to myself or is inhumanly perceptive and realized it on his own, or has his own reasons for disliking the song, and got Tom to forward through the track (he's a GREAT kid who I wish I could figure out how to make actual friends with), but the damage was done.  There I was stuck.  And there I remain so.  Because I thought we were *finally* settling into an honest-to-goodness friendship and then yesterday he goes all distant and weird again so I dipshittedly send him a "what's up?" text and get nothing back...*moan of despair at least favorite situation in the world*...  And I don't know how to take that, and I fucking cannot call him out on it, because who's to say his stupid phone just didn't receive it?

If the next boy I'm into happens to have Verizon, he gets a "sorry, kid" and a boot out the door.  FTS.

(I hope I can eventually reach an amicable reconciliation with "I'm Yours" like I managed to do with Hellogoodbye.  It's simply not fair to turn one of my favorite songs unlistenable.  Jerk.)

...Yeah, 3B in general has kinda imploded on itself of late (there is much badly-kept-secretive dislike starting to bubble to the surface, and a good deal of "draw-ma," and a failed hallcest situation where one party just doesn't get that it's failed, but the kicker--one of the fringe elements, thought weird but lovable, revealed himself to be just plain fucking crazy by sexually harassing one of the girls; he got a restraining order and a transfer to a different dorm), and the atmosphere up there's just weeeird, and I should probably get out of it for a while.  "Should" being the operative word, because of course, since when do I ever do what I should?  For instance, I'm going to go make myself a waffle.