Thanksgiving went very well indeed. I had a great conversation about anthropology and genealogy with Jim Shipton, Uncle Kim, and Grammy over hors d’oeuvres; and after the meal Max, Aunt Michelle, and I hid out in the back room and furtively discussed Harry Potter theories. The food was excellent as well: my mom made a pesto cheese blossom cracker spread, my dad carved the turkey, and I baked delicious rolls. I don’t remember ever having such a “traditional” Thanksgiving, nor one that was so enjoyable.

Friday, Anna and I got together for something we’ve been planning for over a year: seeing the new James Bond movie! Casino Royale was thrilling and emotional and fun — not only my new favorite Bond film, but a good movie all around. It takes place when James Bond first earns 00-status, but it’s also set in modern-day, making an interesting canon reset that both explains a lot about 007 and updates the aesthetic. There’s less emphasis on the grandiose and high-tech, preferring a darker, grittier, more realistic and emotional sort of violence that still manages to stay very Bond (as opposed to License to Kill, which left out something essential in its attempt to do the same). And don’t miss the awesome parkour scene!

Afterwards, Anna and caught up on everything. We talked for hours, and I ended up staying the night. After I got back this morning, my parents and I took a long walk around town. I got cinnamon ice cream and we hung out at Bainbridge Bakers; then we went to the bead store and Safeway; and by the time we got home several hours later, we’d ran into half a dozen people we knew, including my third-grade teacher, Mrs. Mendoza.

Everything here is familiar but not weirdly so. It feels like part of my past, a place I’m visiting and remembering. Catching up with people feels like creating new relationships, and it’s easier than before. I’m more confident and sure of myself, less tangled up in my own habits and better able to see other people as peers. I’m now a visitor on Bainbridge, and I don’t mind. I’ll be back here soon enough, but right now I can’t wait to return to Reed.

Apparently life hates me today. It’s being incredibly passive-aggressive, though. At first things went well: Peaches’ mother took us all out to breakfast at the wonderful Original Pancake House. She’s a very nice person, I’d like to get to know her better — plus she introduced me to wheat-germ pancakes, which were incredible. The only fault in the morning was that Peaches somehow managed to get seated as far away as possible, and I just felt too awkward to ask people to rearrange.

We took a cab back to school so that we would be in time for class. The driver somehow managed to hear “Lewis & Clark College” instead of “Reed College,” and proceeded to get himself quite lost. Fortunately, Peaches and I were only five minutes late to Greek, so I maintained my status among the ἀθάνατοι. But I remember wondering if the day was bound to continue with its streak of misfortune… No, I assured myself, such a negative outlook would only set myself up for a bad day.

Well, that positive outlook worked quite well until I got to the train station. It was early afternoon yet already a long day, and I was ready to head home; a nice long train ride in the rain would be perfect… Unless, of course, I’d managed to book the train for the wrong day — and the only train not yet booked left after 6:00 pm. The lady at the counter assured me that there was no possibility whatsoever of getting on the 2:30 train. I managed to make it several feet before bursting into tears.

I called my parents to let them know what had happened, and they decided to come pick me up. I walked to Powell’s to wait, feeling (once again) too awkward to return to Reed after having said goodbye to everyone. This wouldn’t have been much of a problem — only three hours to hang around town — except that traffic was horrible up north and I sat somewhere without cell coverage to learn this from my parents. By the time I found out that they were going to be later even than the train, my bus transfer had expired and I had no change — and by then they were only ninety minutes from Portland.

So I sat in the Powell’s cafe, ate a slice of banana nut bread for dinner, and (figuratively) hit myself over the head for being so stupid all day long.

At least Thanksgiving can only get better from here…

I need more yarn, badly. I only had one ball, and although I now have a cute scarf, I have no yarn left with which to crochet! I’ve become addicted. Kara showed me how to crochet one rainy afternoon, and thus I began a simple little scarf to pass the time. Then I sat for an hour or two at a time during the next couple evenings just crocheting… sometimes chatting or thinking, but sometimes zoning out completely and just… crocheting…

It’s a very relaxing activity. It was disappointing whenever I had to stop and go do something else, and then I was quite surprised when my one ball of yarn was used up so quickly. I’m hoping to find a place nearby that sells more; then Kara can show me how to make a hat!

I feel the doom of domesticity setting in… But I can comfort myself with the knowledge that at least I have not yet begun to knit.

Rain is on the windows. Rain is in our minds. I ran in the rain on Monday, and it was exhilarating — I kept laughing at the sheer joy of it. Now I’m sitting in the common room and everything is quiet and warm, drowsy and timeless. I think I shall go out and dance in it before bed.

There have been moments this week when I wanted to cry, and moments when I flew with joy.

The weekend was glorious, perfect clear, brisk, windy weather for hiking and hanging out at the beach. I ran barefoot in the sand and through the waves, playing and laughing and thoroughly childlike. I raced at a flock of seagulls, and when took off they got caught against the wind, so that for one long moment they hung in the air around me and I was almost flying with them. It was amazing.

I celebrated Halloween on Saturday this year. We all dressed up — I went as a vampire slayer, Kara as a vampire (don’t worry, I restrained myself), Jacob as a mime, Jessica as Audrey Hepburn, and Peaches as a Romantic poet very convincingly dying of consumption — and went to Harvest Ball. The DJ was awful, but it was great fun to see everyone’s costumes. Without trick-or-treating, what else is Halloween for? Max H. transformed himself into a Beer Bot (a robot made out of beer boxes), all seven of The Endless were present, and even Google made an appearance.

Parents have taken over Reed this weekend. This being Parents’ Weekend, the state is completely logical, but all the students are going around a bit awkwardly. The influx of grown-ups is very effective at making me feel like a kid. Then again, the grown-ups are a bit out of place themselves, treading cautiously in a world that is not their own. There are two intersections of domains here: one between Reed and the outside, and the other between each person’s school and family lives. As for the latter, I’m happy watching it from a distance — I’ll wait for Thanksgiving.

It has finally begun to rain. I wish was able to stay in pajamas all day and drink hot chocolate, snuggled up in warm blankets. Perhaps tomorrow it will remain soggy and I’ll get my chance.

Perhaps, perhaps, perhaps.