Hello people who may care about me; O-week in chicago has been a drunken frenzy; I have not had a single dry night since I got here; in fact, as I'm writing this, I'm slightly shit-faced and having a hell of a time; I've really bonded with some of these people; I figure I could grow to like most of them, because they is nice peoples. As in, seriously nice peoples. Some of them, anyway.

And so, tonight, after the latest party in a long, long, long-ass list of parties, I'm hanging out in my suitemate's room, on my suitemates computer, writing a little spiel about how much I love life over here in chicago. The raucous noises have died down a little bit; I am alone in my wakefulness, with a cup of tea and the silence of a hallway that has long since gone to sleep. The buzzing in my head means that I'm not completely sober, and this is good; the first week is far, far too complicated to cope with sober.

I bought a new diary the other day at the bookstore; busy times don't allow pause for reflection, or even the occasional rant. I'm not complaining, of course, you have to imply things from what's left unsaid.

So this is college. I'm finally here. The question is, why do I feel like the door is closing already?