Greer has been visiting me with her coworker, Brandi, who pierces at Blue Horseshoe. They make an excuse to come visit me, by delivering their laser technician guy, who is very cute, his paycheck. So they do it to see his attractive face too. It's been fun and I love meeting new people. I've met a lot of new people through Greer. My friend Patrick has been hanging out with us too. We usually go bowling at the local AMF, which is very nice by the way. But sometimes I feel that our visits are forced. I've got my busy school schedule here and trying to fit in my best friend is hard.. I want us to hangout like we used to, but things just don't feel the same anymore. I had fears that Greer and I would drift apart when I left and now I'm afraid its come true. My mom says that happened to her when she was in college too.
I've tried to make friends here at VCU, in Richmond. But I'm crawling back into my hole. It's hard.. I haven't found those amazing people yet. I feel like there's no one I can confide in. I don't like confiding in acquaintances. I liked the way my life was.. I liked the people I had in my life. I was content and now it's like everything is wrong. I'm super uncomfortable with my life. I feel like I'm at prison. I appreciate my parents for not sending me to a far away private school. I miss my big room. Sharing this tiny little room with someone else I don't know sucks. Privacy is hard to come by here. The rules are irritating. I can't wait to live off campus. Hopefully with my boyfriend next year.
My mom just bought a house. It's more of a townhouse. But still.. She bought a fuckin house! I mean it's a miracle! I remember the day she left my dad and started all this crazy financial shit.. And now she has a house with her name on it. No more landlords. She can do whatever she wants to it. It's the best thing to happen to her in a long time.. And to our family. The only sad thing is that it's not my home.. I have no room there. Hopefully I'll be living with Abe.. or on my own. That's a scary thought for me.
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