THE END IS THE BEGINNING

I feel the end of things nearing. And I don't mean because 2012 is about to make its exit.

You just get that feeling deep inside, as you pay attention to details, analyze specific moments, take less crowded routes to and from class and walk in between glass buildings where once in awhile you meet some stranger's eyes when you glance inside.

The sunlight and the leaves on trees will always be there, you think as you walk the obscure paths through the campus, and so will these feelings you have inside of you. The only thing that won't be there, and that will change are the people you harbor those feelings for. They will be replaced with new people, and the feelings you had will just continue onto them. But, there are only a special few that really had a profound effect on you, and are what the best stories of pain and joy are built upon.

Everyone else is replaceable.

QUIET TIME

Angelica is back in Indonesia for her sister's wedding, but she left me a key to her apartment because she thinks that I am actually her roommate. I have to keep breaking it to her that I'm not.

Also because I leave my Shakespeare textbook at her place. It's 7.7 pounds. Which is roughly the weight of an average newborn. Or a human head, which is really 8 pounds, but you get the point. I can't be lugging the entire works of Shakespeare with me every Tuesday and Friday when I have other books to carry, so I pick it up before class and then drop it off later since A lives right behind the subway station.

THE GIRL THAT CAN'T BE MOVED

Angelica reminds me this morning that she got us both second row seats for The Script concert tonight. I like The Script, they have some good songs, but I paused and then said to her, "Have someone on backup just in case, alright? I've been up since 7 this morning." To which she gives me some grief (though she did make a few calls when I asked her to). "Sorry, no backup. Looks like you're going with me," she says, tossing her phone on the couch.

I then explain to her that I'm not trying to be a party pooper or a fun sucker. It is out of habit now, that I decline social invites, as the 80 year old in me prefers hanging out at home rather than go out to crowded shows. My passing up a Bloc Party show a few months prior, a band I've loved for years, shows how serious I am about this. She offered me court side tickets to a Celtics vs. Sixers game a few weeks ago and I choked on my response that, "I have this Shakespeare paper to write." Which was true. She texted me from the game later that night saying, "You are missing out on some fine ass men, my friend."

Priorities, though.

The world is in sufficient supply of fine men, and will be for awhile.

IT JUST STARTED SNOWING OUTSIDE

On the topic of sweet gestures by your buddies, Angelica bought me a sunflower on one of the worst days I had recently, in an effort to cheer me up.



And then we had Popeyes on campus because it was a Popeyes kind of day.