March 17, 2003

  • We all slept in again, awaking at 10:30 to the excited cries of an  anti-war demonstration on the boulevard.  You could hear the police on their megaphones trying to control the crowd.  The girls' voices carried best, making it sound like a cheerleading team.  We never planned to participate; other, more real problems being on our minds and being undecisive as to what side to take, though the guys usually have a heated debate on the subject at dinner.  I for one have to see which way the wind's blowing. 


    Sallie broke the news that she won't be returning next quarter.  She really misses her family and her boyfriend in the Midwest and detests California; yeah, everyone's either looney, gay, right-wing, pagan, or otherwise fucked-up (Gee, thanks!), and they really can't afford the out-of-state tuition, which is comparable to Ivy League.  Though it came as no surprise, it hit a bit hard coming at such short notice after Darcie's suicide.   Everyone was ready to high-tail it out of here for Spring break, and now we gotta post a fucking roommate ad and stand by the phone.   We should leave the interviewing to Donna, since it's her room. 


    We decided to hold a small memorial ceremony for Darcie last night at the universal church.  About half the people we called showed.  It was nice.  I liked the young priest they had; he was very in tune to our feelings, like a psychologist. 


    Tomorrow I'm hitching a ride back home with my old h.s. friend Ellie.  It was she who suggested the chapel, since we don't attend church at this time.  Brett says he can make arrangements to visit his cousins in Marin County (Marin, Marin) and rendevous with me later this week; it wouldn't look right to my parents to hold a love fest in my pink and white gurlie room right next to theirs.