positive tension

It's the middle of the semester and everyone I know has hit the wall.  The proverbial "wall."  It's like I try to cram more information in my head and it just falls out.  I'm tired all the time and have been developing really odd sleeping habits.  It's interesting to experience school without a regulator like a full time, demanding sport.  I have to actually hone my own self discipline.  It's harder than it looks, let me tell you.

 

My clothes have been getting bigger without me.  I have had to put more holes in my belts because otherwise they are just useless.   

 

Fall is coming to the Soda City, slowly but surely.  The leaves are turning and subsequently falling but the weather is sort of lagging behind.  It's getting cooler at nights and I'm ready to break out the sweaters and boots.  I'm jealous of the 40 degree weather Illinois is having because it means coats and scarves over the sweaters and boots. 

(Side note: Soda City is, I believe, derived from the fact that Columbia is often abbreviated as just COLA.) 

 

 Prison update: It's going well and I have a waiting list for my next group which will happen Spring Semester.  I am fascinated by the women there and the way they adapt to things.  Such as: the prison pumice stone?  Sandpaper that they snag from the workshop.  They use it on their feet and elbows.  They also fill empty chapstick tubes with vaseline to keep in their pockets for their hands- mostly the women who work in the kitchen and the laundry to prevent chapping.  It's also amazing to me the amount of women who daily wear full faces of make-up. 

 

Anything to make life normal.   

 

Creepy prison thing:  No one who works there drinks out of the water fountains.  They flat out refuse.  Makes you wonder.  About a few things. 

 

Life in the House of Men is going much better.  We are all getting along and they have discovered the wealth of fashion knowledge that I am and I am routinely asked pre-date outfit questions.  Should I button the top button?  Should I wear an undershirt?  Can I wear a black belt and shoes if my shirt is brown? 

 

I was going to a birthday party with MSW the other weekend and I hadn't changed yet and was sort of milling around in shorts and a tank top and he asked me in a voice I can only describe as wrinkley-nosed,

 

"Are you going like that?" 

"What do you mean, am I going like this?  What's wrong with this?"

"Uhm, well..."

"I'm going to change, don't worry.  But, what?  You don't like this?"

"It's not that, I just know that when you go out you tend to get more dressed up, I was just wondering!" 

 

Right.  Glad we're all on the same page. 

 

The other day I was in the shower and there was a knock on the bathroom door.  It was MSW.  "Chloe, I just need to grab something, is that okay?" 

 

Are we there?  We're at that point as roommates already?  The can-I-come-in-the-bathroom-while-you're-in-the-shower-to-grab-my-hair-stuff point?

 

Oh, we are? Okay.  

 

   

 

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