We are Intimate Strangers

I am on a bus right now. What an interesting transient community. I am sitting next to someone who has lived at the same university as me for two and a half months. We have never met. Isn't that peculiar? 

I was thinking of that earlier. Last Friday as I was leaving my Chemistry lab at around 5:00, one of my classmates was heading in the same direction as I was. We walked together, exchanging casual remarks about the weather and music and our lives. I'd never met him before. I'm not sure I would have been able to pick him out as a Brandeis student in a crowd. But we just kept talking and it was nice. 

Our paths were about to split when I realized I had no idea what his name was. We yelled introductions as our paths diverged. It was a backwards sort of friendship. I didn't see him again all week, until the next lab. It turns out we've been in the same lab group for two and a half months now. Even then, I didn't talk to him during that lab. We left at different times. We might never have one of those conversations again. It's a strange sort of intimacy, but one I'm okay with. 

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Re-decorating for Finals

Image
When I'm stressed (like I am right now for finals), I usually want to bake or make crafts.  From reading  Katie 's blog to de-stress, I've been dying to decorate my walls.  Unfortunately, my walls look like this: My roommate's walls, however, look like this: We've both been really stressed lately, so I wanted to do something that would make her smile.  I've had these magazines since I went home for Thanksgiving break, and I figured it was time to do something with them.  After about an hour of furious snipping, And pausing to sniff the perfume samples, I had a huge pile of scraps. But also, a huge pile of hearts!  I used sticky tack to stick the hearts to her wall, And made a pretty pattern! Now when she looks up from her bed, she'll have something pretty to look at and will remember how much I love her.  (:  I even had enough hearts left over to do the wall above my bed!  Now it'll always look like I'm dreaming of love. What do you do t
Read more

Oh, hi there!

Image
I feel like a puppy is as good a way to start off a blog as any.  This is my dog, Thaddeus, at just a few months. Hello!  My name is Amanda, but if you're reading this blog, I've probably finally gotten around to making a video or a twitter post about it, and you probably already know that.  Whatever.  I like introducing myself.  I'm 17.  I'm not very good at blogging consistently. Lately, I've been thinking a lot, partially as a function of having graduation less than a month away.  I have some angst-y rants that I want to get through.  I also just occasionally have things I want to vlog about that I just don't have the time or capability to film, or I don't want to clog subscription boxes.  Also, there are some awesome people on here who need following, so... Is that what you call it on blogspot?  Following?   I don't know. I'm Amanda.  I like to take photographs.  I'm a bit mad.  I love new friends. Friends? DFTBA! ~Amanda P.S. My fir
Read more
The sign that says "Attractions" at the exit for my grandparents' house is blank, as if the state of NY can't imagine for the life of them what would attract anyone to the tiny town of Eastport, Long Island. There are no malls, no waterparks. I'm not sure I want anyone to know what should attract them here, honestly. If everyone knew about this place, a thousand tourists would trample the flower beds that my grandmother used to cultivate so she could sell bouquets out of her farm stand. They'd eat up all of the "Play Doh" ice cream at the Hershey's stand that also sells international phone cards. They'd buy all of the silly bracelets on main street. They'd dig up all the sand, catch all of the waves. Is it selfish, to keep this a secret? The attractions for me here abound; a raspberry, sweet as a promise, erupting on my tongue, a whisper through the fence from the boy next door, a game of Pooh sticks with my mother over the bridge dow
Read more