Cramped confines.

Sometimes I wish I was cool. Someone who knew how to handle herself in whatever situation presented itself. Leaving Stanley is a particularly pertinent example. Someone cool would have slapped Barb, Linds and Jo on the ass, secure in the knowledge that they were going to see them again and see them soon. I was secure in that knowledge. I am! But I fought off (not very successfully) tears as I left the house (three times because I kept forgetting things including the ever-important purse). I'm a crier, I accepted this a long time ago. Still, sometimes it would be nice to be cool.

It's slowly coming together. Very slowly. I'm going to have to defy the laws of physics to fit everything into this MUCH smaller space but all my Stanley furniture is in here and my computer is in here and soon, I'll have unpacked all of my books and I really don't care how big it is, as long as all of that can go in there. I'm not a size queen (perverted laughter). Man, I've definitely watched too much Queer As Folk.

I don't have a door yet, not even the makeshift one I had when I lived here after first year. That is going to have to be fixed and soon. I need the illusion of privacy, at the very least. Couldn't bring myself to bother Brian about it today, as he's been a complete jewel about everything else already.

I want to have people over. I already miss having people my age around.