My Partner in Nudity,

It's good to hear this note of optimism from you. I think living alone will do that to you, no? Something about not taking social interaction (even the superficial and sometimes unpleasant kind that you can get from roommates) for granted. It motivates you to pursue. (Pursue what? I don't know.)

And I like your Freudian analysis of your need to collect possessions. I think I do the opposite, but for the same reasons as you. My mother hoarded when I was growing up. We were surrounded by too much. It was often suffocating. I think that's part of the reason that even at four or five, I was trying to move out of the house and live a simpler existence (my first attempt at this was trying to build a house for myself in the backyard, made of old timbers and mud--epic fail). So now, I periodically do the cleansing that I never felt able to do as a child. I sell, I donate, I release. I minimize.

Another school year is starting for us both. I miss college--I miss being thrilled about the start of a new round of classes and people and experiences. Today is the first official day of our semester, and were I still College Lindsey, I would have been up three hours ago, showered, and ready to head to campus and meet the day. As it is, I'm making my way through too many cups of coffee and far too many cigarettes, and putting off my morning grooming rituals in some futile attempt to postpone the world from moving forward. I will fail at this attempt (you know, because it's futile). In fact, I already have. Not even eight hours into Day One, and I'm already behind on two writing projects. Soon, my students will be contacting me, needing me to answer questions that I won't be equipped to answer. And now that I'm a fourth year student, the incoming graduate class will turn to me for advice. They will expect me to have great insights for them (I know they will, because that's how I felt about the fourth years when I arrived). How do I tell them I have none? More to the point--why don't I have special insights? Shouldn't I? After being here this long?

On Friday, I went to a social event for all the faculty and students in my area. It was at my professor's house. And suddenly, I was right back where I was nearly four years ago: a visiting undergraduate, overwhelmed by the seemingly simple tasks of graciously receiving food, of being socially appropriate, of fulfilling the role of "guest." Not that my hosts weren't kind and gracious--they were. But five minutes into the ordeal, I found myself wanting to make like Kafka and turn into a bug (a small one, though), and perch in some corner, and watch but not be watched. I couldn't, though, so instead I held my friends' baby. I've never wanted children, lover, but that moment...made everything else not matter. Can we have lots of babies together? I'll bet, lover, that your lover would approve.

I can't postpone the day any longer. But before I go: it's nice to have this haven with you in the vast, confusing land of the Interwebz.

--Miss Sir Galahad