Proof of Genuine Sympathy In The World

I realized the other day that there are still genuinely compassionate people in this world. I'm a little hesitant to tell this story here because I'm a little embarrassed about it, and I haven't told anyone the entire story yet. On Saturday, a lot of little things added up to a really crappy day, and I ended up at the mall with my mom, sad about my grandpa because I'd been visiting my grandma, jealous of my sister because my grandma's taking her on a cruise and a tour of Europe, and hungry because I hadn't really eaten since breakfast. At the mall, my mom promised that it would be a quick trip to find a baby shower gift and that we'd go find something to eat right afterward. An hour later, my mom was looking at shoes and insisting that I stay with her instead of going to get food. Everything sort of added up and I almost started crying, so I got out of there as fast as possible. I ended up at a Seattle's Best Coffee in the food court where, much to my embarrassment, I started full-on crying. Now, I absolutely hate crying in front of people, especially people I don't know, but the barista noticed that I was crying and came over to ask if I wanted a hug and gave me a coupon for a free coffee. I wish I'd been coherent enough to thank her properly, but I was too embarrassed to really say much beyond "thanks". So:

Dear Seattle's Best barista,
I really appreciated your sympathy last Saturday, and I will hold it as proof that there are genuinely good people in the world. I wish I hadn't had a break-down in public, but I'm glad that it happened in your coffee shop, since it had to happen.

Sincerely,
Emily

In Which Dot Is Ridiculous And Awesome

I'm not really sure what to say, which is kind of a first for me. Let's just say that it pertains to S, and that I'm still processing things. I know I haven't written about S a lot recently, despite the fact that I've been spending quite a bit of time with him. It's probably because things have been going so well that I haven't written about him.

So, keeping in my recent trend, I will share an awkward story that one of my friends had. I was over at the Sig house (completely sober!) a few weeks ago with Dot, who was a little drunk, and P, who was also completely sober because he can't drink with his medication, and this freshman who I will call The Jew. Now, Dot is Jewish and would very much like to date a Jewish boy, so P turns to her after introducing The Jew and says "He's Jewish, too!" Dot jumped up, threw her arms around The Jew and drunkenly yelled "You're from the tribe, too???". I will never let her live this down. Ever.

I also have another awkward story about Dot that conveys her personality perfectly. Apparently, she was walking over the bridge near our dorm when she realized that there was a family of ducks in the water, and no one else was nearby. Because she's Dot, she decided that she wanted to make the weirdest noise possible and see if she could scare the ducks. She demonstrated the noise for me, and it was a cross between a growl and a hairball. Right after she made the noise, she realized that there was a girl standing on the other side of the bridge. And that is Dot, in a nutshell.

And now, back to my paper on Othello. Why does it seem like I'm always writing a paper?

God, Don't Have A Fuzzgasm

The word of the week has totally been "fuzzgasm", coined by Dot when she put 3 fuzzy blankets, 2 fuzzy pillowcases, and fuzzy shorts on her bed. I absolutely love everything that Dot says. Honestly, I laugh more with her than almost anyone else, excepting maybe Ellie. Anyways, her bed is extremely comfortable now, and I even took a half-hour nap on in this evening, in preparation for the paper-writing marathon (which is less than a page away from the finish).

Another funny story Dot told me yesterday:

When Dot was younger, her dad gave her a family tree and told her about her family history. Her last name apparently comes from German, meaning shopkeeper. Years later, she was comparing her family tree with those of her two brothers and they realized that all the family trees were completely different. In fact, her older brother thought they were Irish, and her younger brother thought they were Native American. Her dad had made up different lies for all of them, and they never knew until several years ago! EPIC WIN!


And now it is time to finish this essay...

Some Funny Stories And Some Juicy Gossip

My friend told me a hilarious story the other day, and I'm retelling it here with the understanding that her name will never be revealed. I'll call her the Kind-Of Virgin, or Virgin, for short. So, Virgin was getting naked with her boyfriend for the first time, and after he took off his clothes, he simply looked at her, pointed at his crotch and said, "So...penis." This just cracked me up, especially since Virgin is sort of a prude.

In other news, TM has a new girl, and I managed to find her blog and follow their fledgling relationship. I'm really enjoying laughing at him, especially since I have no emotional ties to him anymore. I hope this works out well for them both because I'm fairly sure he won't find anyone else at this school who will date him.

As I sat here writing this, another friend of mine came into my room and told me another hilarious story. Apparently, this friend has been dating a new boy who is awesome in a lot of ways, but sometimes seems to hide things from her or lie to her. The other day, she asked him if he'd gotten into any more grad schools, and he said, "Yeah, I did!" When she asked him which ones, he looked flustered and replied, "Uh, I mean....no." Which goes to show that even great guys can be dumbasses sometimes.

A Little Bit Sad

I flew home this past weekend to attend my grandpa's funeral service. It was good to see my family, although it was a little overwhelming; there were over 280 people at the service. It was hard to make small talk for several hours with virtual strangers who all seemed to know who I was. The service itself was really nice, and I got to see a different side of my grandpa through the stories his close friends told. I thought it was funny and entirely appropriate that my grandpa's broker spoke at the funeral; money was one of the few things that my grandpa cared about, apart from his family and beer.

I was really glad that I got to spend a little time with my grandma; I'm sure it's extremely hard for her, although I imagine that it's a little bit of a relief, too. My grandpa had a really bad month, and my grandma spent a lot of her time making very difficult decisions. It's a big change for my grandma; she married my grandpa right out of high school, so she's never been on her own before. When A and T came to pick me up from my grandma's house, she walked me out and as we were walking down the front steps she asked me tipsily, "Is it okay that I've had a lot of wine?" I told her that I thought she was entitled to a few glasses of wine at this point.

I know that it was my grandpa's time to go; he'd suffered a lot this past month, and he was ready in every way possible.