Write something, damn you

The title of this is addressed to me, or more specifically, to my lazy ass. I sit down at the computer, I read everything anyone else writes, I post random shit in the comment sections, but for the past like week and a half, the blank staring New Post window makes me freeze the fuck up. So now my new strategy is, just fucking write something and never mind whether it's shite or not.

So here we go. I actually taught classes last week! I didn't screw them up! At least not majorly!! Seriously, though, the classes went really well. I was nervous as hell, for one thing about the huge size of the classes, and then again about the individual students. I was imagining hostile, glossy teenagers. Instead, I got sweet, fairly shy kids, most of them in the awkward eighteen stage. I loved them for that, since four years ago I myself was quite possibly the most awkward eighteen-year-old in the history of the world. Yeah. So one week down, 13 and a half to go.

Last weekend, Jedno visited. It was brilliant--as she mentioned on her blog, the themes of the weekend were beer and reconnecting. A lot of beer. And even more reconnecting. One night in particular, we sat at the bar at Edward's* and talked for like, 5 hours and I can't even remember how many beers. What was awesome about it was Jedno and I had fairly similar experiences at the college, knew and loved mostly the same people even. But (a), there's a year difference between us, and (b) we were in slightly different circles of the same, um, echelon. And yeah, I know that's not quite what echelon means, but I really wanted to use that word, and what I mean is we were both Pit people, and Non-Frat Pit people, at that (I was going to say Thinking Pit people, but come to think of it, that was another group altogether, and they could get kind of annoying). Nonetheless, there's enough difference between our perspectives that talking about those years, and the people we knew, was absolutely fascinating, for me at least; getting to see the events unfold in the early years that shaped the people I knew later on.
So the whole weekend was really fucking cathartic. I got to go back through and recount a lot of shit, particularly all the stuff that went down senior year after Jedno left. Which sounds, I guess, and could have been, fairly morbid and unhealthy, particularly given how unhappy I and those around me were during most of those years. But I've always found it really good to remember stuff, particularly the kind of remembering you do when you tell the story to someone. Helps me move on, I guess. Also, I got to hear her take on stuff; I learned a lot from that, because of the perspective differences I talked about earlier, but mostly because she's really insightful and perceptive about people and their fucked-up shit.

*Ok, this essay has been too damn therapy talk-oriented. Thus, I will now tell you something random, which is about Edward's. Edward's is an immeasurably cool pool hall on Sokolovske Namesti. It's all dark wainscotting and brass finishings, and legend has it that it's a hang out for the Russian mafia, which makes it even cooler. Unfortunately, the only clientele I've ever seen in there is seventeen and under. That's the only drawback, though. One thing to bear in mind when you go to Edward's is that when you have to pee (and you will, we're drinking beer for crying out loud), you should remember that the toilet paper is conveniently located outside the stall. So get some before you go in.