I had a dream that the snow piled up to my 3rd floor window

Early this morning, I heard my phone vibrate three times...the sign of an incoming text message...at 5:30am?

SNOW DAY!!! Yes, even in college, there are snow days.

There is something so lovely about dreading a day full of hard classes, and then waking to find that they are all cancelled and that you can sleep until noon.

Which, of course, I did.

I went out in the snow for a bit with my friends and boyfriend. We attempted to build a snowman. We threw ice at each other. We got wet, and then came inside and thawed out. I hurt my knee.

But I don't care! It's a SNOW DAY!!! For once, I have a whole day to sit around in sweat pants. To drink tea and to watch movies and to talk to my friends without having to rush to class right away.

The floor on which I live has pretty much divided itself as of late. Nobody really talks anymore, and when they do, the tension is high. Today, I'm not thinking much about it. I'm sitting, cozy and warm, on my friend's bed. We're watching chick flicks. I'm a little hungry, so I'll probably venure out in the snow again soon to find dinner.

This reads like a journal entry...maybe it is. I'm feeling a little like I need that diary aspect in my life right now. Forgive me.

Apparently, I suck at laundry...

...and at keeping good roommate relationships going.

My roommate and I have gotten along splendidly since the beginning of the year. No fights, no hard feelings. We talk if there's an issue, and otherwise we basically stay out of each other's way and that's that.

Last night, I wrecked it.

I had my boyfriend over. My roommate went to bed. I wasn't going to kiss him. I really wasn't. We were just going to cuddle. I knew it would be rude and disrespectful to make out with him while she was in the room. I mean, ew!

Yeah. Didn't work out the way I planned.

And as soon as he left, my roommate FREAKED THE FUCK OUT. I don't blame her. I apologized over and over. She's still mad. I can tell.

Still, at this point, it's up to her. I did my part in apologizing. The boy is coming over later to do the same. He feels just as terrible ablout it as I do. And believe me, I do. Now, she can either accept or decline the apologies.

I know she told all the people on our floor. The girls come in and look at me weird before talking to my roommate and then leaving. One girl was in here chatting with my roommate, and when I came into the room from doing laundry, they both stopped talking and didn't say a word until I had left.

Great.

I feel terrible. Really, really horrible. I wish I could turn back time.

I know my roommate is going to call her mom and tell her about it. And, because I know she's a bit of a mommy's girl, her mother will hate me for doing her daughter harm. Oh yay.

I really like my roommate.

Dammit.

My hair isn't really red. And I like waffles.

Hullo, hullo, hullo!

Blogs. Some people laugh at them, and some are addicted to them. I personally have never been much interested in blogging. However, as of late, there have been some changes in my life and there isn't nearly enough grey matter in my head to hold it all anymore. I need an outlet. A place to spew.

I'm 18. A legal adult. I live on campus and study English. I may decide to double major in German as well. I have experienced, in my first semester alone, hookups, breakups, stress, pranks, and many other seemingly usual aspects of college life. Nothing extraordinary. Nothing outrageous.

As far as I know, in fact, most everyone on Earth will go through similar hardships, joys, and challenges as the ones I am now facing. I do not aim to harbor biterness or so gain sympathy in my writings. This is merely a way for me to vent. To say what I'm thinking without talking off a friend's ear in the process.

I love my life. I love every moment of it for the lessons I am learning about being an adult, and for the fun I am having as one who is still a child inside.