Quiet? Quiet.

After talking out options for a short story with Sam last night, my brain was humming with story ideas and I decided to do some writing myself. It wasn't anything interesting, just placing myself in a given situation and trying to write myself out of it. It made me feel alot better, and I also found that I can perhaps focus my dreams by writing on a topic right before I go to sleep--which would be nice. I slept in till 10AM, took a shower, and cleaned up the room while I waited for Sam to get back from class.

When I went to sleep at around 2AM the night before, Sam still had not decided on a topic for his short story. When I at last ran into him for lunch, he had turned in a 13-page work of fiction titled "Call it Destiny"

"It's not as gay as it sounds" he had assured his classmate John.

If you can imagine combining Pulp Fiction and From Dusk Till Dawn . . .you would have Sam's story, which follows a private investigator who is. . .supernatural, and hunting out answers in an undead world of crime. If you get the chance, I'd say read it, not just because he's my friend, but because it's fast-paced and enjoyable.

My afternoon? Well, still no refund check from Loyola, who had told me around April 28th that I'd be receiving that check "any day now." Grrrrr. I need that money. So I shifted some money that was extra from my payment to Hiram over to the book voucher account. So at least I'll have some accesible cash, in the book store. But at least I finally worked up the nerve to just go ask the business office to do that. I'm a wuss sometimes. Then I fiddled around at WHRM for the afternoon, doing some more apartment searching, which is still frustrating because I can't arrange viewings until I know what my transportation status is, and it will be a 10 hour drive, or a 150 dollar airplane ride each way. It's times like these I am relatively glad my grad school isn't on the west coast--the logistics would be a nightmare.

Dear lord do I miss Dave. I don't have anything to do here (not complaining), so there's not much distracting me from pining for him. And Sam misses Barrie, so our combined mood isn't anywhere near cheery. And then there's graduation.

I took a walk around campus to make notes on what pictures I need to take before I leave. If I get time I'll make an album when I'm home, to give me some closure. If I think about leaving too much, I get panicky. It's all happening too fast. And it's so beautiful here right now. . .if it were winter I'd be happy to leave. I'm wrestling with how to say goodbye, but it's kindof like when Dave and I thought we were absolutely done with one another. I had to come to grips with the fact that things were changing, that I couldn't stay in the life I liked whether I wanted to or not. It's good that I don't have a choice of whether or not I leave Hiram. I mean I do, but I wouldn't want to take it. I am ready to leave, but I'm sad to go.

I can see things are going to be a bit nostalgic and emotional from here on out. . .