Jagshemash!

I've got that song "Come On Eilleen" stuck in my head, and I don't have any idea why. I haven't heard that song in years, and I'm not even sure I've got the melody right.

What a bizarre couple of weeks. Everyone I know is in some kind of weird transitional phase, everyone's feathers are ruffled, they're rubbing the sleep out of their eyes, trying to force themselves awake- how can I explain this?

You know that feeling you get when you walk into a room in a daze and someone asks you a question that you immediately know the answer to (e.g. Where are the coffee filters?), but for some strange reason, you just don't want to answer it? You know, you're really irritated by it, but you don't know why because there's absolutely no reason. I don't know if you understand what I'm talking about, but I'm going to move on anyway.

That's just the state that everyone seems to be in.

I was sitting in a cafe with Rachael a couple of days ago after seeing the Borat movie (nine thumbs way up), and we're sandwiched in between a few economically marginal people shouting in Russian over dirty chess sets and these two Harvard kids. Rachael had soup, I had a sandwich and some kind of latte.

I'd like to point out that Rachael tasted said latte and feigned indifference about the beverage, but quietly ended up drinking more than half of it. It was a well played move, because if she had said something like "Ooh, that's good!" I would have guarded the drink more carefully.

Anyway, the Russians kind of created a tension (the one closest to me smelled like urine and had more hair in his ears than I have ever seen on a biped), but the Harvard kids took the cake.

One kept talking, as only Harvard kids can, about his classes and how disenchanted he was, while maintaining that he really liked the classes "where you just think." I guess he was talking about a math class. This kid went on and on, and Rachael and I couldn't help but share the occassional glance of rage and desperation that said "I can't believe these people exist."

Trying to hold any sort of conversation between the two of us was futile, and then something amazing happened.

Well, amazing if you know Rachael.

Solidifying my assumption that these kids were homosexuals, the more talkative one said "So, do you want to come back and see my dorm room?"

Then, in a voice that I swear was not her own, and with a light in her eyes sent by something either much higher or much lower than man, Rachael hissed "He's gonna get railed."

This terrified the two of us, and we left the cafe hurriedly. Why she said that is still a topic of debate, but if we come to any conclusions, I'll be sure to let everyone know.

- - - -

In other news, I'm writing again, with mild success, and I bought a sausage from a street vendor in front of a dorm at BC at three in the morning this past Saturday.

Maybe that sort of thing contributes to the surreal quality of life we seem to all be sharing.