Blah... I think I'm gonna pass out. Everything is going well except the eating situation. I guess I'm not eating enough. I'm feeling really weak. Gotta learn how to cook.

I have the apartment to myself again, probably for a couple of hours. It's kind of lonely but I really don't mind the few moments of space. I'm not very homesick. I'm not exactly having a complete blast here but I don't miss home.

College is a time to be meeting new people. I haven't met hundreds of people but I'm finding myself being sucked into a close bundle of friends rather than having a network of connections. I like it better that way. Probably not all that great for selling myself to this capitalist economy but I like it better. A guy I met that mingles with me and my other cohorts came from Armenia. I was going through my Tagalog grammar book while I was waiting for my next class and he happened to notice.

"Tag-alog? That's the language they speak in the Philippines, right?"

"Yeah," I say, a little cheery that for the first time I didn't have to explain about the language.

"It sounds a lot like English and Spanish."

"Yeah, three hundred some odd years of colonialism can do that."

"I know." He gives be a brief run down of the history of the Armenian people which is full colonialism. "We know all about oppression." Probably the most interesting person I met all week since all anyone else can talk about is import cars, frat parties and high school nostalgia.

Riding a bike for two miles to school isn't so bad. I fell off the bike the first day of school but I'm getting a hang of it. Sometimes I want to yell at the pedestrians in front of me "Hey! Get out of my way! I don't know how to control this thing." Some people think the two miles is pretty long but the ride gets shorter and shorter each time. It's a little disappointing because I wanted some exercise everyday. But I guess it will do. We also went biking for ten miles on Saturday. I don't know if I mentioned it. It was pretty fun. I never really took bike journeys that far. It was usually up and down my street about fifty times when I was younger. And I don't have to worry about a car to take care of, or gas money or paying for an outrageously priced single term parking permit.

Classes don't seem to bad this quarter. The only class I should be worried about is statistics since math or anything dealing with numbers just isn't my cup of tea. Still, I'm not even worried. I guess I'm tired of worrying. Just take it as it comes. I was a little freaked out this morning in my psychology class. The flipped through the syllabus and on the second page it mentioned something about a 4000 word 15-20 page paper. Groan, groan, groan. I pointed it out to my friend who I biked to school with. Even more groan. Then it turned out that the professor's secretary put the front page of the psych class syllabus on another syllabus. *whew* But we do have a three page essay. I wasn't too annoyed with a 15 page paper though. It is college after all. But if I can get away with not doing a couple, great.

A Moment of Privacy

Everything is going well so far. Having three clingy roommates is becoming a little straining on my privacy. Almost every minute of the day, someone is with me. I don't mind, for the most part. But I do need my space. Actually only two of my roommates are clingy. We're not much of social butterflies. We're more like hermits. The third person is a guy that's always hanging around our apartment since we're all friends. He also just got dumped by his girlfriend. Me and my apartment-mate sense a little chemistry between him and my roommate, which is odd. Throws you all the way back to middle school.

Everything is great, but I don't think I'm content. I'm always motivated when I'm not in this city but once I come back, I feel discontent and bitter about everything. I'm not happy with the way things are run here, and it annoys me even more that people accept it. I think people are less in touch with the world here than in other places. They're into money.

I've decided that I'm going to live poor. There's nothing much I really need - materialistic, anyway. I've contemplated dropping out of school, too, but maybe this whole rebellious phase is really just that - just a phase. Maybe I'm just more radical because I'm in college, a time when people become radical but once they get out and start a family, they forget about all those radical ideas. The funny thing is that my thinking didn't spawn from radical thinking in my school. In fact, it's just looking at everyone bourgeois. It came from the opposite. Sometimes I think I'm crazy. I try to explain to people how I see everything but they just look at me like I'm crazy.