Social experiment Saturday.

What can I say about my Friday night when it consisted of my graphics professor telling me to go home at 4:30pm; me filling up my student union dinner cup only halfway, spiking the diet Dr. Pepper with hard lemonade and drinking it through the lid so I could have it with dinner at the library to read the latest copy of Wired; running into a high school friend when I went to see the Vagina Monologues; walking to the drugstore to buy a heart-shaped box of chocolate and eating it because I wanted chocolate more than I wanted to feel skinny; and celebrating the fact that my roommate went home by handling myself and then dancing around to Best of Motown while I brushed my teeth at one in the morning?

Yeah, that's what I thought.

I didn't expect Bluetooth to text a booty call. I halfway wanted him to and 86% hoped he would. According to Suitemate, he officially broke it off with Clingy last Sunday on their coffee date. I'm going to call it on myself, too: cleared of complications (Well. That I know of.) and still no text = he broke it off with me, too, only shredding with a razor instead of cutting clean with scissors.
Violent imagery, but I've come to peace with the end because it feels just as good and only a little lonlier when I handle myself.
I completely expected, wanted, and hoped for Cape to continue the Facebook message conversation we'd been having about Suitemate and Auto-Tune in the morning while I was trying to rewrite an article draft and failing miserably in the newsroom. (Eventually I said "fuck it," took an early lunch break, and got shit done in the library.) It just stopped at 11am and he hasn't replied yet. Here we go again, right?

Plans for today:
3pm. A Night to Remember for Singles Speed Dating, aka Let's Group All the Lonely Kids from the Weird Arty Dorms and Imply That It's Possible to Arrange an Orgy with a Prom Theme by Monday.
I'm going because hi, my name is Melanie and I'm addicted to flirting and don't know where else to start picking up girls. There'll be a straight side and a gay/bisexual side, I've been told. I plan on jumping the fence.
Thank fuck Suitemate's not going. I thought she was--SHE thought she was, until Wednesday's date with Mike and bowling balls.
Now all I want is Cappy's Jamaican Me Horny t-shirt from that episode of Greek where Rusty makes him go speed dating. 
6pm. Dinner at student union. Didn't even think about wanting to cook this weekend.
10pm. I was just going to walk downtown and wander into the first bar that had good music and pool going, but Facebook gave me a purpose. My guitar teacher's playing an acoustic set tonight at Restaraunt Slash Bar in the new downtown, so now I have a definite destination AND a place where I was last seen in case I get mugged or raped or stabbed.

Will report back. Social Experiment Saturday ahoy.