Tuesday, August 20, 2002

girls, girls, girls

I am back in Sarasota. I don't know what to make of that, how I feel about it, being back, whether I am happy about this, or whether I hate it - this town, seeing the same people, engaging in the same banal conversations with these same people that I have seen around for the past four or so fucking years of my life, my fucking life, spent here in this town, doing this, this silly shit.

Bonnie and I are staying at our old house on Stevens Road. We got back Friday evening and opened the locked doors to the unoccupied house since Bonnie still had the keys. We have been camping out on the couches since then, talking to Evan who came by to get some of his stuff, and to Tobgye who also came by to get some of his stuff, and who is this very fun boy that Bonnie and I want to come visit us more since he is new, someone I have not met before. Taking breaks from the couches, trying to convince ourselves that we are not that lazy, getting up to look for houses to live in, to go to the beach, to go watch the sunset, to go steal groceries and beer from the many surrounding grocery stores, and to make what usually are dissapointing trips to campus to see people.

An hour or so ago, we went to Palm Court to snag some free food, checked out the first years, some of whom are very cute, particulary black shirt boy, and avoided the returning students, the people we knew, the people that bore us to tears. Whenever some non-first year, someone we knew, would walk by where we were seated, we would turn inwards and feign involved discussion to avoid having to talk to boring people about boring things, people like you.

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