The Color Purple

After surviving probably the worst week of college ever, I am looking forward to next week, which promises to be even worse. And I don't even know why I am writing at a time like this. A time when I should be locked away in the upper floors of the library, studying until my hair turns white and my eyeballs fall out. But it's safe to say that my priorities are not quite straight, much like myself. Not. quite. straight.

Speaking of wasting time and being gay, last night, after finishing two exams that day, I decide to go have a little drink and have a little fun. So I come back a little wasted and I see Friend G, someone I met just a few weeks ago but is already one of my better friends here, sitting at his computer. Anyway, the first thing I do when I see him is give him a big hug and rest my wobbly head on his shoulder. And unlike most straight guys, he is very accommodating and does not swat me away. In fact, he starts rubbing his head against my tummy. Something my other friends find very disturbing, but I like it because we are animals and this is how we say hello. We spent the rest of the night sitting next to each other watching Margaret Cho on his laptop and although I'm sure he's not gay, I was so into him at that exact moment. (I don't know why I said "although." It's really "because.") Either way, I had to utilize ever sober fiber of my being not to start making out with him.

Basically, this sexual frustration is too much and it's only a matter of time before I blow up and do something completely irrational like join the army or wear something in the color purple.