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I am actually writing this in a bathtub. My bathtub, obviously; I have not so lost my grip on reality that I have begun breaking into the homes of my neighbors to make use of their bathtubs. I at least know what has happened in mine in the last year and a bit I’ve lived here. Mine could use a good scrubbing, but never mind.

There are three doors between myself and the outside world. Two of them are closed.

No, I’ve just closed the bathroom door. And locked it, largely for dramatic effect. Though I suppose I could have told you I had (and not actually done so) to much the same effect.

Today I got some really excellent news that I have apparently decided can only be written about whilst hiding in my bathtub. I have brought The Return of the King in here with me for entertainment, and a beer, probably also for entertainment.

Now then.

This summer, I will be working at the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame in Cleveland, Ohio, USA. Don’t tell anyone. Or…if you do tell anyone, don’t tell them I’m writing about it on the internet.

I also have rather a non-stop schedule of social events planned for this weekend, and I can’t decide whether to be excited or terrified about it. On the one hand, I will meet lots of new people! On the other, I will meet lots of new people! On the third, which I have gotten through an unwise combination of Tolkien and alcohol (Gandalf did it), maybe they will like me! On the fourth, which I stole from a neighbor who wasn’t using it when I broke in to use their tub (the truth will out), maybe they will not!

Mostly I have no idea what to wear.

I remember when I used to not care about clothes and whatnot. I also remember those being the days in which my entire plan for the evening was to skulk in a corner and live in some kind of endless dread that someone would speak to me and/or that no one would notice I was there. I went all the way through undergrad making a total of three new friends with whom I have any semblance of regular contact.

But now I am trying that thing where you…skulk in corners less, or at least you make sure it is in an interesting corner, and you bring glitter or something with you so at least the light reflecting off it will make sure someone will know you are there, and occasionally you go up and talk to people and try not to accidentally tell them your entire life story because you’re nervous.

Do you see how this blog post has gone? That is how I am afraid much of the weekend will go. Lots and lots of that.

Oh well. A nice man from grad school is also attending Saturday’s plans and expressed interest in sitting together and so on, so that should be nice. I will at least have someone to say “hello” at every five panicked minutes.

“Hello, I know another human! I have ever spoken to anyone before in my life! I am not some terrible beastie unleashed from hell to plague you all!”

OR AM I.

I’m…going to go finish that beer before it gets cold, but I’m going to stop typing this first before it gets any worse.

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