"It's a girl, Mrs. Walker, it's a girl."

Several weeks ago. Or... I don't know [accurate measure of time] ago, I saw a play in Princeton called Fiction . It was, I must say, excellent. I really, really, really adored it, and on the way back home, I was thinking of all sorts of things to write about it. And then, what with my life needing to be a never ending cycle of shit, shit prevented me from continuing to want to do that. Um... I'm still not going to talk about it. But, anyway, I had to see it for a class, and last week, we discussed it in class. Only my professor (who I ordinarily 'be cool wit') said that the discussion was going to be brief, because he hadn't seen it. Thought it was running longer than it was, blah blah, whatever. Ass. Now, I know it's not his fault, and it's not as if this is a theme. But this was so much better than the usually dreck he sends us off to see and critique, and I was really genuinely disappointed with him that he couldn't provide me with any intelligent discourse on it. Also, the class was small that day, because... well, it's a long story that can pretty much be summed up with the word "douchebags". And of course, no one there appreciated it the way I did, and they hadn't paid attention, several of them didn't go as well. Yet they keep expressing opinions about it. It was so annoying. Their opinions could be logically countermanded, and were formed on part of the show missed, and then the people who hadn't even been to the show started expressing their opinions based on the bullshit they had been hearing from the people who hadn't paid attention.

I wanted to explode. I can't enjoy anything. And I wish to God that people who don't know what they're talking about would just stop talking.

I long to interact with normal, agreeable people. If only I knew where I could get me some of those.