1/9/02

eredien: Dancing Dragon (Default)
Everything is moved in, mostly, and I am now indeed alive.

I usually am happy to come back to the Mawr. Good stuff. Parade Night tomorrow, and martial arts after that, and classes, yay.

However, it really twisted my good mood up when I was walking back from Brecon and said hello to a group of frosh who were walking down the hall. (How did I know they were frosh? I didn't recognize their faces offhand and they were grouped together like a bunch of sardines, a common Customs Group side effect.)

They looked at me. One managed to say "hey." They kept going. This was okay until they got about five feet past me. I distinctly heard one say, "dork," in a tone of voice that made me think that they were automatically defining everyone they came across and I'd fit nicely into their little slot.

I was wearing a Doublestar T-shirt, but it was the only thing I had clean this morning that wasn't too nice to wear for move in day. But frickin' *grr*!

This pissed me off. I mean, who are they to categorize me? And I was trying to be nice. And all the telling onself "it doesn't really matter" in the world doesn't make me any less upset. Because if it didn't really matter, it wouldn't hurt.

Going to bed soon after hanging posters. Russian is going to be interesting: it's rumored that there's not supposed to be any books this year. This is not standard procedure. But it saves me about $100. Who's complaining?

March 2016

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