not falling down

New euphemism For NFD Use Only (in addition to A and B): Summer. I talked to her for maybe the last time tonight, gave her thestupid mix CD I made, watched her dance out the door. There was a time, I think, when she wouldhave been the one sorry to see me say goodbye; tonight that was reversed, and that’s entirely myfault, but that’s okay. Given the choice, I’d rather be sad myself than watch someone elsehurt.

(Most of the people who talk to me regularly know who I’m talking about anyway. So why Summer? Two songs.Take your pick.)

My mp3 collection is and has always been fairly bloated, but not because of downloading. Sure, Ipirated my fair share, back before the Coming of the Firewall. Mostly, though, I use WinAmp as akind of über-jukebox for shuffling through the best parts of my CD collection. I went throughand cleaned it up back in February, trying (failing) to limit myself to three songs per album; thatgot me down to a gig and a half, though I’ve added a few since then. My playlist right now standsat 484 entries with a total running time of 29 hours, 38 minutes.

Jon moved out Tuesday, and the room gets boring when it’s quiet. So as during the redesign, I’ve had music playingmore or less continually for the past couple of days, and once again I think I’ve managed to gothrough said entire playlist. It’s very different music than it would have been when I got toschool last fall, and that’s a little strange to think about. This year hasn’t… well, in a way itdoes seem longer than sophomore year. But in a way it seems like we just got into Bingham.

Even so, now that I’m packing and boxing and taking down posters, it’s hard to imagine not livinghere. Bingham 212 feels more like home than home. That’s not really a bad thing–it’s just thatRichmond is usually a place where I crash on the way to other things, and this room is where I comewhen I want to sleep or play or feel comforted. Now I’m deconstructing it (and finding afrightening number of insects), and that’s all going to change tomorrow evening.

I’ll be too busy this summer to get homesick, I’m sure–besides GSP, I’ve got my first pro designjob to do, and the full automation of this journal, and maybe some redesign work on the rest of thesite. Plus I want to turn part of my desk into a light box. I won’t lack for occupation.

Even so. Even with one working shower and screaming fights next door and a horrible, evil janitorand an elevator that smells like pee, I’m going to miss this place.

but this is where weused to live