money can’t buy you back the love that you had then

this year it seems the weather has changed rather quickly, and while i’ve enjoyed creating early fall outfits (namely pairing skinny cords with boat shoes), i’m so confused: 1) fall crept the fuck up on me; 2) maybe point 1 is false and i just haven’t processed that ’summer is over’ because i haven’t broken my summer routine of selling-used-womens-clothing-and-living-with-my-parents; 3) this weather makes me think i should be at drew.

so, although i’m still in summer mode (a lifestyle i accept with ambivalence), the weather is telling me that i should be in new jersey, i guess drew has become what i associate with this weather.

i’ve become far more appreciative of what i had at drew lately.  i really miss having a group of friends.  have i already reached the point of life in which i have friends scattered here and there, and no posse to run rampant with?  it has its benefits – for instance, i can complain about almost anyone to almost anyone, because no one knows anyone.  this lifestyle suits me well most of the time, because i like to go out to dinner in small groups (and honestly that is the majority of socializing i get these days) but it certainly harms me when a party pops up in my life.  i drag jane with me every now and then, but i refuse to go to any party unless i know i have a buddy-system-partner lined up.  this may or may not sound really neurotic (depending how well you know me) but just think about it.  who wants to go to a party of a group of friends with whom you are only acquaintances?  if you’re anything like me, that sounds like a great opportunity for crossed arms and miller light sipping in a corner – or worse – before you know it, you will have smoked an entire pack of cigarettes just because it’s something to do.  i had forgotten what bad party anxiety i get until recently, and then i was dying to be back at school, where i would exit most parties early claiming i was bored and going to bed (but probably going to watch sex and the city), but at least i was comfortable.  and smoking far fewer ciggies.

Will You Still Love Me Tomorrow? by The Shirelles