Toastie ‘97

10:10PM

It’s been a very eventful day, so I’ll just try to summarize. My alarm didn’t wake me up at 6:30 like it was supposed to. I woke up at 7:50, and my UWC class on East starts at 8:00. I didn’t take a shower. I got to class at 8:30. My teacher was pretty cool about though. Philosophy class sucked as always. BORING is the best way to describe that class. I bought some vending machine stuff with my DukeCard after philosophy. I was surprised to get my fist French quiz back with a grade of 94. I was more surprised to find my DukeCard gone when I went to pay for my lunch. I had left it in the vending machine. I called to suspend it. I didn’t find it when I went back to look. I had computer science, and then I had a lab back on West. So I was at classes until around 4:00. I got a temporary DukeCard and learned that about $7 worth of vending machine stuff was charged to my card, but I’ll be credited that money. When I got back to the dorm, I got a message that my card had turned up. I’ll get it tomorrow.

When I got back, I was hot and sweaty, and I want to write about my roommate, but I hear him outside…

Well, apparently the noises outside this door have been from Michael’s friends, undoubtedly heartbroken that he’s not around. So let me write about Michael.

Coming back here this afternoon to find Michael and his friends jamming with their guitars made me realize that I simply don’t like my roommate situation. I don’t dislike Michael, but being roommates with him just isn’t working. I left the room and told a couple of girls about this problem. Michael and I have NOTHING in common. I can’t stand listening to him playing his guitar. I have nothing in common with any of his friends who come in here. When I occasionally walk in when Michael’s having a serious discussion with someone about girls, I don’t understand or don’t agree with anything he’s saying. This room is just too small for the two of us. I don’t think either of us like having the other in the room.

All summer, I kept worrying that Michael was too cool for me. It turns out we’re not compatible, but I don’t think Michael is cool. He thinks he’s cool. That’s pretty evident when he talks about looking for cool people for his band, and how the people at an ultimate frisbee meeting were dorks. When his friends aren’t around, he always seems pissed off. The only girls he ever talks to here are the ones he parties with. He doesn’t go to all of the girls’ rooms just to talk. I don’t know if he things he’s too great to talk to some of them or what. So basically the point is that me and Michael just don’t work as roommates.

Solution? Well, I’m sure that we could somehow split up now, but that would be such a pain. I can deal with our current arrangement, I think, for the semester. Maybe things will change over the next three months, but I doubt it. So I’m thinking that perhaps it will be best to look for different roommates for the second semester.

Anyway, I’ve had a fairly interesting night. At 6:00, those who signed up had dinner with Dean Wilson, this really interesting history teacher. The dinner counted as one of my programs as house programmer. Dean Wilson gave me a lot to think about, although shots of motivation never last very long for me. At 8:00, I went to the Cable 13 station for a news meeting. I explained that I had absolutely no TV experience, and I still might be able to be a reporter for this news magazine. The idea of me being kind of a North Campus correspondent was kicked around, and that would be really cool.

I’ve had an empty dorm since I got back, and that’s fine with me. Oh- mail today. Two big surprises. First, I got a postcard from Marnie Warner from Wisconsin. She didn’t say anything in response to what I wrote a month ago, but the fact that she wrote at all was very nice. Second, I got a letter from Jackie from NYU. She wrote a nice, unemotional note, too. So now I have two more addresses to write to.

I talked to Dad tonight. He and Brenda plan to get here between 11:30 and 12:00 on Saturday.

Around 9:30, I called Susan. It was so nice talking to her. We just said every standard thing about how our days had gone that we could possibly say, and that was it. But it was nice. She thanked me for calling. She felt okay when I talked to her. I miss her.

10:30 now. I may not do any work tonight. I think I may just write out some postcards and check my e-mail to see if Kumar wrote back to what I wrote him this morning.