What a week. Starting last Friday, this week has just been getting worse every day for me. Friday was my last day in town before leaving for college, so I got a group of my friends together for dinner as a little going a party. Well, one of them couldn't come, and I had to see her before I left since she's practically my little sister and one of my best friends, so I planned to pick her up from school and get ice cream with her. That was mistake number one. See, while I see her as a little sibling, she sees me in a more romantic way. So when I asked her to hang out with me after school, she took it as me asking her on a date. I can't really point out specific things that made it feel like a date, but overall, I feel like I went on a date with my fourteen year old little sister (I'm 18). That makes me feel wonderfully icky. All I'm hoping for is that I had the wrong impression, and if I'm right, that news doesn't spread. I don't want people thinking I'm a pedophile.
I dropped her off at her house and then got ready to go out to dinner. Mistake number two was choosing Chili's. I had made reservations so we wouldn't have to wait, but when we got there we were told there was about a 20 minute wait. Oh well, no big deal, it's Friday night and we're at one of the few decent restaurants in town. After about an hour of waiting and several rude comments from the host, we were getting pissed. We decided to stay though, because we would just have to wait anywhere else we went. That was mistake number three. Shortly after we decided to stay, a large group of high school cheerleaders walk in all nice and scantily clad. A little flirting with the host later, they were seated while we were still waiting. We had a smaller group too, so there was no reason they should have been seated first. Finally we get seated, and our waiter comes up to our table...completely and totally wasted. Oh joy. He took our orders and left only to come back every few minutes to make some bad joke, get touchy feely with the ladies, or make a remark that told us he was eavesdropping. One time he even picked up one girl's wallet and took her ID out and looked at it for no reason. His justification: "I wasn't trying to see where you lived, I just wanted to know how old you are." Yeah... So much for a nice get together before moving out.
Saturday came with the chaos of freshmen move in day. In the midst of that mess, I tried to meet up with some of the people I met at orientation. Of course, despite the fact the we got along great at orientation and talked all summer, they're now too good to hang out with me or even say hi as we pass by each other. WTF!? What happened to all our plans we made to celebrate college? Why bother to talk to me or make plans at all for that matter? People really piss me off sometimes.
I woke up Sunday morning to the stairway door slamming shut repeatedly. Yeah, I got the best dorm room – right across from the heavy stairway door. Great. And now, as if the past two days haven't been enough, my dysphoria increased tenfold all of a sudden. Wonderful. I have no clue why it got worse, but it did and it hasn't gotten better. So I decided to call the gender therapist the campus' Office of Multicultural Affairs referred me to the next time I was by myself. Every time I had the chance though, I chickened out. I couldn't bring myself to make that call and tell someone I have gender issues. It's much harder voice it than talk about it on a forum or in an email. I began to beat myself up pretty bad for being a coward, which is EXACTLY what I needed on top of the past few days. That night was a party held by the school, and I hung out with my roommate and one of his friends. His friend happens to be gay, and my roommate fits the gay man stereotype perfectly. I was the third wheel on their date. I want to point out that I have no problem with gay couples. I only have a problem with the them if when they're together they turn into snobby bitches, as my roommate and his boyfriend do.
Monday and Tuesday passed without any major events. I just stayed in my room a lot feeling down, although I did go visit a friend at a neighboring campus. I enjoy the atmosphere there a lot more than I do the one at my school. I'm already thinking of transferring. On Wednesday classes started, and I found out that I have to run all the way across our huge campus in ten minutes to make it to my classes and if I don't get there early, there's a good chance I'll have to sit on the stairs in the class because all the seats will be taken. At least my professors are cool.
Thursday I finally managed to work up the courage to call the therapist. I called...and got the campus printing center. I was given the wrong number, and now have no contact in the OMA because the LGBT coordinator quit. Wonderful.
Now my mind is filled with images of hurricane Gustav and flashbacks of Hurricane Katrina, which I got to experience three years ago to the day. My college closed to today at noon in preparation to evacuate. I left last night in a mad rush so I wouldn't get caught in evacuation traffic today. Today all I've done is sit at my computer checking every forecast model obsessively and praying that Gustav goes elsewhere. I don't want what happened three years ago to happen again. I can't handle the uncertainty of not knowing if my family is alive or lost. I can't take living in house with 16 people and their pets again. I can't take another Katrina.
