how is my life real?
i'm home now, and sick, but it was worth it. DE got me sick, but i wouldn't have passed up kissing him goodbye, not for anything.
we both cried as we said goodbye and he shut the door, and he stood on the corner and waved as i drove away, done with my first year of college.
my friend that drove me fit most of my stuff into his car, although i did have to take DE up on his offer to keep some stuff at his house. but i managed to bring home everything i needed, i'm pretty sure.
i'm running only about a 99 degree fever, but still, for me that's about 3 degrees above normal.
it's so strange, i'm actually excited to go back already. and not just for DE, although it is very unpleasant not being able to see him every day like i have since we started this, except for spring break.
i'm excited to be living with my friends, i'm excited to be living on the first floor of any building at all, i'm excited to be living in a house, i'm excited to have a single room...
the friend that introduced me to silversun pickups facebook chatted me.... he's very drunk. and drunkenly confessed that he kinda liked me since last semester.
what.
apparently i'm a hot commodity.
i don't even.
what.
what.
how is this my life.
i honestly don't get it i just what. what.
DE has acknowledged the existence of the so-called "LLOA" (long list of admirers, a name my friend KK came up with in elementary school or middle school or some ridiculously long time ago), and he says he's obviously not a fan of it, but it provides him a nice ego boost when he considers that he made it onto my much shorter list.
and he says that i'm the only one who doesn't see why i'm so popular.
i just don't even understand my life.
i'm also happy to be home because maybe i'll eat less. i don't know. i feel like everything that happens just makes me hopeful i'll eat less and then i hardly do.
but it's summer and i am not ready for bathing suits, not when i was like 15 pounds lighter last year. shoot me. or harpoon me, considering i could be mistaken for a whale xp
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