C invited me to her joint sorority and brother fraternity party this weekend. I had told P that I would call him if I didn’t have too much studying to do. He’s so naïve and sweet. A part of me wants to eat a nice meal at 5-star restaurant with raw appetizers and $80 bottle of wine and be able to blot my mouth with cloth linens. But the other part says that I shouldn’t completely sever myself from my peers for fear of suspicious rumors, and because it’s been a while since I’ve been to a frat party. The thing with spending time with men who make money and drive nice cars and buy you nice things is that you get used to it. Boys my age bore me now and I often find myself looking at them in disgust. The way they drink cheap beer in plastic cups, don’t own anything that has to be drycleaned, drive cheap noisy cars and whose idea of a Friday night date is going to TGI Fridays makes me nauseous now. I will probably end up going to this party just to get back in the game. And I think people are starting to wonder about my whereabouts.



