Last night, for lack of a better word, R0XX0R3D! Even though right now I am sluggish, a cup of coffee the only hope for my eyes to open all the way, I am still beaming inside with my sheer mackdaddiness.

I went down to Folk and Blues twice last night, actually. First time, we saw Intriguing Lanky Guy walking around, and, as per usual, Anne and Elizabeth teased me endlessly. I do find him mildly attractive--after all, he's like, seven feet tall and 100 pounds--but most of all I'm just intrigued by him. We were just chilling though, and, as usual, I said nothing to him. Then one of the Japanese foreign exchange students we're friends with came over and sat with us, and Elizabeth told her that I was a lovesick foo'--and pointed out Tall Lanky Guy. So she--in her eternal chipper motivational mode--grabbed me by the arm and propelled me up to him. Luckily, she declared that it was "a bad time to talk to him" and we walked on by. Then, later, Peter--one of the hippest guys on campus--was counciled to make me talk to him. After Anne and he scoped out the poor guy, they came back over. Peter asked, "Are you sure you know which team he runs for? I mean, I've seen him in a 'I Make Boys Cry' shirt, and there were a lot of those at the Pride Parade." Now, I would not be surprised if he were gay. That would go in with my track record. Furthermore, Peter was intrigued how I could be intrigued by Tall Lanky Guy. But then he went off. And, later on, we decided to go back to the dorm--and on the way, passed Tall Lanky Guy laying on the ground, an opprotunity to say "Hi" I passed up once more.

Back at the dorm, though, Lindsae made me a rum and coke. Which tastes like cough syrup if made with Diet Coke and spiced rum. But I got most of it down, and, being on an empty stomach and sleepy anyway, I was instantly buzzed. And when we went back down again, I saw Tall Lanky Guy playing frisbee with a dog, and I stopped and petted the dog--and talked to him. Booyah.

Really, I don't think I was "drunk" after one rum and coke. And furthermore, it wasn't like I instantly married Tall Lanky Guy. Indeed, he's probably either gay or a total jerk. But, to my friends, I seemed at least a little brave, after so many times passing up talking to him.

But this is not where my true mackin' comes in. Jim, a guy from Maine with long red hair, found me, yelled my name, and hugged me. Breaking apart, he said "Oh, wait, are we at the hugging state of our relationship?" I said sure, and hugged him again--whereupon he lifted me off the ground. "Oh, wait, do you like being lifted?" I laughed and said it was fine. The amusing thing about Jim is that he somehow has the mentality of a surfer--from Maine. Then he asked me to dance.

And, to tell you the truth, there is little else more hilarious than two redheads dancing. Because we just go crazy and pretend we can. He could do a jig, and I could jump up and down. Talent, eh?

Elizabeth claims Jim finds me attractive--something I'm unsure of. I believe he's just a flirt. Nevertheless, it was a great night. And now I must eat food.

I promise to put up another entry later that actually matters, or something.