Of the three parties I've been to this semester, multiple people shouted my name when they saw I'd arrived. Even at last night's "80s Frat Party," I stumbled upon a sizable number of band kids excited to see me in the mess. Danielle had the biggest hair I'd ever seen. Her ponytail was bigger than my head. Then I saw Gab, another one with huge hair. Her and Kira matched for the second party in a row. They're so cute. As expected, it was hot and gross and gropey. I never thought I'd be grateful to find ceiling pipes leaking on me. The live band absolutely made the night. We would've left after 20 minutes if they hadn't been playing dancy 80s rock (and some Beastie Boys?). Bein' my dancy-self, I got all danced up on, which I don't mind for one or two songs. I was making funny faces at Gab for one guy, but apparently he was cute. Oh well, not tryna take home guys at a frat party, or any party, really. Inebriation is a major turn-off. T-Pat picked me up when he drunkenly hugged me and offered beer, but he surprisingly left when I said I didn't drink. Strange... We left after the band finished around 12:15, walking arm in arm with Gab to help her toddle across the ice. Tim, upset that Katy was holding hands with Glenn, decided to be straight and honest with me. "We talked the first day, when you were introducing yourself and everyone and you said you used to be in pit but now were doing cymbals, and I haven't talk to you at all since that, which is a shame, since you were nice and I was really shy and now you have lots of friends, so I guess it worked out for you."

Super Bowl Party

Tonight after the orchestra, I called my mom to tell her about my day/how it went meeting the family I'll be serving as a companion for. I hadn't talked to her on the phone since Saturday, so I asked how her Super Bowl Party had gone. It was so adorable to see her get excited for it. She bought real cards from the dollar store with a fancy black/white scheme that she picked out from all of the other cards that implied what the function was about. These were classy things. We talked about what chips she'd have and where to put them on the table, and who she could invite, because she couldn't have a really big shin-dig because not everybody would be able to fit in her teeny apartment. It was the first party she'd hosted, in, well, ages! She wound up with about ten people on the invite list, and wrote her cards and handed them out. Only four of her friends showed up. Well, Caroline couldn't make it, so Tom didn't bother going either. And Barry and Angel went to visit a nephew, so they weren't there. And the people who did come, everyone except Jim left after an hour or two. "I felt dumb and really stupid for having this party. I guess I just won't have another one."

This was so much more painful to hear than I would've expected.

Staying and Touching

I didn't realize how hard it would be to stay in touch with people from back home. To remedy the issue, I've been writing letters at least 20 minutes a day for the last three days. Even so, it's hard to include everyone. I don't keep the same schedule as anyone still in GV, and I'm so-so with the Fb chat.

Postcards are my favorite. That's going to be half of my souvenir budget in Italy- super nifty postcards.

Leaving the country for the first tie is both thrilling and a little nerve-racking. I'm intimidated by the cost of living and language barrier, but also encouraged by the human awe that will be evident without translators. The whole city of Rome is a museum, and one of my ideal classes will be "the Roman sketchbook- drawing, painting, and sculpting the city." Currently, my application is complete and downpaid for. Registration opens up sometime in March, and I should start looking into plane tickets now. Unfortunately, one has to book both their incoming and return tickets before starting the semester abroad. I was hoping to stay in Europe for a few days past the educational portion. Depending on how my finances go, I may try to get a refund and stick around. We'll see. It's tentative.

Disillusioned

It is in the winter time I have found dissatisfaction with party life. It's too cold for pleasant and audible conversation outside, as everyone is crammed into a small space. I relayed this sentiment to Gab and Kira after Saturday's super party, and they seem accepting to the idea of generally leaving earlier than most. Too many drunks, too much straight Philly tap. At least I'm really hydrated all the time.

Next week, I've been invited to an 80's Party at a frat. Of course, I'll go for the novelty and experience of having been to a frat, but I have no interest in drinking or especially talking to frat guys.