Hey, cool! Last Friday was the first anniversary of prisms!

Well, Ellen Kushner came down last Tuesday and came home with me for dinner. She amazes me – so cosmopolitan, so alive and sure of herself. There’s really nothing like her in Richmond. She’s made me think twice about my aversion to going north for college. After all, I’ve got a whole world in front of me, and why shouldn’t I try new places? An hour or two more in the car, what does that matter? I don’t need to go home so often as that. Currently enamored of Swarthmore, Haverford, Bryn Mawr. All sound very cool, but I’m still not sure what the difference between them is if the classes are so interchangeable.

I’ve been reading Ellen’s Swordspoint and loving it. Some of her dialogue is just brilliant. Dialogue is what I do best, so I respect her the more for being able to do it so much better than I.

Slept over at Christine’s last night, good time as always. Got three or four rocks to skip three times. Made fun of ducks on lake. Tapped out “It Came Upon a Midnight Clear” and the Israeli national anthem with a piece of dried pineapple on a plate. Much madness.

Scheduling is over and done now. I’m taking Russian II, Art IV, AP Spanish, trigonometry, physics, US government, AP English Lit, and a seminar on public policy. A scary counselor at school is trying to talk me into taking a study hall, but I want to go to Haverford a lot more than I want to be sane next fall while I’m trying to apply. This logic seems skewed, but I refuse to take a study hall and give up one of my precious classes.

Went on the annual pilgrimage to the shoe store and got two pairs of sandals. Last year I didn't get anything, just lusted for a ridiculous pair of purple shoes. Once again, the bargain aisle in the back of the store did me in. I intended to get something practical, but had watched Tortilla Soup the day before in Spanish class and felt the need for cute shoes. I realized that I have never once owned a pair of cute shoes. As I was looking, a woman kept talking to people very familiarly if they happened to be standing next to her. She waved a pair of imitation crocodile pumps at me. "What do you think, are these lesbian shoes?" I was too surprised to say much of anything; I think I just smiled and shook my head. "They're kind of nice," she continued, trying them on. "But they are lesbian shoes, really." She put them back in the box. It occured to me later that I should have answered sweetly, "Gee, all the lesbians I know wear stilettos." But actually, I don't think I know any lesbians. Three bisexual girls and four gay guys, but no lesbians that I know of.

So I got a pair of pink sandals that are actually very comfortable and easier to run in than the clogs I’ve worn all winter. Seven dollars, oh yeah! And since almost everything in the store was half off, compounded by the half off of the purple sticker on the bargain aisle, I got a pair of red sandals, too. The wisdom of that is starting to seem shaky. They have about a one-inch heel and make a huge racket when I come down the stairs. Also, they sort of hurt. But I’ve always wanted red shoes, and these were $8.50. Maybe I’ll wear them in college.

February 15
March 16