It is the start of another week of my experience with living amidst a
bunch of wacko princesses. It is anything but boring. It is one of those days,
which I cannot make up my mind about, whether I should resent it or love it. One
of the princesses scored last night. That is not such a novel occurrence as one
might think. What that entails for the princess’s roommates however is a long
day of hashing out all the juicy details about the experience.
I have to admit I am a sucker for details and gossip like any
red-blooded female. Those who say otherwise have antifreeze running through
their veins or smell like burning clothes, because their pants are on fire
since they are big fat (no offence to vivacious women) liars. Since our
university is small and everybody knows each other, it is not like everyone is
not already talking about who hooked up with whom, how, where and after how
many drinks into the night. Truly, no one’s got anything better to do, so I won’t
feel any shame in having a front row seat at a show everybody’s talking about.
A down side to all the talking and sharing, however is that it takes up quite a
while, so all the quality time I could have spent procrastinating is filled up.
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