if i only had the noive [nerve]

Still no word from grad school. This would not be a stressful thing if students in other departments had not told me how quickly the turnaround time in their department was for hearing back. Or perhaps if the mail in Indiana came on anything like a regular schedule. I become neurotic and obsessed and check the mail three times a day, when I know that we're lucky to get the mail every other day.

Yesterday I ran into a grad student in literature who attends some university in Indianapolis (known by all residents of Indiana as "Indy"). It completely brightened me. A flash of sororal understanding enlarged the literature part of my brain and we chatted animatedly about Victorian novelists for about three minutes. The people next to her at the counter eyed us as though we were somewhat possessed. It felt like yelling about Yeats in the Gee in front of the football business majors.

I am currently being an unforgiveable coward and not returning the call of the funny young man with whom I went out for lunch on Valentine's Day. He called last night, but failed to leave a message, and I am fretting about whether or not to call him back. It's the second time he's called sans message in a week. The first time I didn't feel obligated to return it, as it was an early Thursday afternoon, and how did I know what he wanted? But last night's call, I think, deserves some reward, since he knows that Sunday night is usually the only evening that I'm reliably free.

Coward, coward, coward. (At least I haven't been whining nonstop about being single in oh, say, a month.) But still -- coward, coward, coward. The sad truth is that I'm terrified of men. I hate being vulnerable. And I'm not saying that like I say "I hate bologna" or "I hate being tired." I hate being vulnerable. It's much easier to condescend, bully, or in other ways establish myself as superior -- a defense mechanism perfected through nine or ten years of queening it over youth group guys, even when I was fond of them. But I couldn't do that with this guy. I don't want to. I also don't want him to think that I'm not interested. A ridiculous coward, but not disinterested.

Well, I've wasted most of the day not calling him knowing full well he works second shift so that I'm safe for the rest of Monday, but I'm posting this declaration so others can hold me accountable: I will call him tomorrow. Granted, I'll be at work, but I have an hour break.

At least this guy calls. That's an improvement on the last model.