Frans is easily one of my favorite people in the dorm. He's chill. Earlier this evening, I had my head pounded and compressed by the sounds of Mar and his friend trying to play the guitar. It was a major sacrifice for a simple jar of spaghetti sauce, but it had to be done! The pain of that moment will be in my memory forever - the headache, the nausea, the aweful out of tune squeals coming from a beautiful instrument.
Frans, meanwhile, introduced me to his friend Mateo this evening. He and Mateo sat and jammed on the mandolin and the same mentioned guitar -- and it was beautiful. Sitting by a forest stream while pixies play and laugh in the water wouldn't be as relaxing as these two boys tinkered with their instruments. And while Edgar Allen Poe may not seem like the perfect addition to this night, sharing his stories was oddly appropriate.
Anyway, I adore Frans. He wore my sweatshirt outside, so now it smells like love. And we watched the Big Lebowski while sipping wine. (Yes, I know, wine. Unfortunately, I'll never be a pretentious snob when it comes to alcohol -- drinking wine is like forcing myself to down a giant glass of pure vinegar.)
All this was within the last three or four hours. Pretty much my whole day was spent in a haze of dragging myself from one class to another, humorously murmuring "braiiinnns!" to myself to get over how dead I felt. There was this one glorious section in time, 45 minutes, where I napped on the big green couch in the library. I think I left a drool spot on the cushion, but that's not gross. It's just a sign of a good time.
This weekend, I have big plans. They involve movies, maybe illegal drugs, calling up Brent (see how those two coincide?), but most likely just sleep and a few good books. Natalie left for the weekend, Matt's supposed to show up one of these days (not sure what I think about that), and I feel like locking myself in the dorm and only talking to a select few people. And only one at a time.