the confessions of a 23-year-old freshman.

sunday morning - er, sunday afternoon. i woke up to brilliant sunshine streaming through my windows and thought to myself, "wow, self, that's odd ... that bright that early?" i had, after all, set my alarm for 9 a.m.

upon examining the clock and vaguely remembering attempting to re-set my alarm when 9 a.m. rolled around far too quickly, i realized that it was 12:30 p.m. my alarm-setting attempts had apparently failed me. bollocks.

i haven't slept in that late since college. granted, i couldn't fall asleep until 3:30 or 4, but still ... felt like i needed to roll out of bed, throw on a sweatshirt and head to alliot to witness the culinary mastery that was/i-hope-still-is the omlette man.

somewhat appropriate, i suppose, considering that i spent some of last night back at the old collegiate stomping grounds. met up with andy to see the theater department's latest offering (and the first show with british accents since my days in arcadia) and, as i hoped, ran into a few of my favorite still-smcers, jane and joe ... during intermission, i was invited to the cast party following.

i decided to make an appearance so i could catch up with friends still in the department, despite the ridiculously bizarre feelings that are conjured by preparing to go to a party at the college from which you graduated almost two years prior. walking into a party that's being held across the way from the house you lived in as a senior. and realizing that you don't know many of the people who are now shaping the department you helped shape in years past. one of the guys who actually lived it the house said he didn't recognize me, so i must be a freshman. i waited until i was on my way home to laugh hysterically.

the visit was brief but good ... good to see faces i haven't seen in awhile and hear how much people miss having me around, good to see that most of the lifestyle hasn't changed a bit (although i felt oddly maternal when i wanted to urge the a&f-ad clone girls present to put on some damn clothes - it's not quite warm enough to run outside in tank tops). but wow - to hit up a party in a townhouse across the courtyard from where you lived as a senior - two years ago - bizarre. i just wanted to grab my legal friends and head to rira's and get a vodka cran. i felt old - justifiably so.

after four years of college and two years post-grad, i still don't know the proper response to a greeting of "vickie! i kissed (insert name) at the festival too!"

hmm.

time to move my arse and be productive - running, possibly picking up music by "the postal service," then continuing the process of redectorating i started yesterday. my living room looks like the "trading spaces" crew went on strike halfway through a makeover.

and it's one of hildy's designs. ugh.