probably set the record for bizarre earlymorning crying today when, after waking pre-alarm from alarming dreams, i wandered down to the computer lab and checked up on weblogs. miz *don't call my daughter zabby* eliz's account, on top of ross and nori's glorying, and ross's comment on her page (i see they've finally become friends in my absence) made me drip a little. i couldn't wallow, i had class to go to. as i returned to my lair to get ready, i mused over eliz's take on comfort zones. mine are clearly defined; i'm posessive of them, suspicious outside of them. she cited her tendency never to leave her room, or if possible her chair. i countered with the fact that twice my mother has given me as birthday presents comfort zonish equipment, once a hammock, once a beanbag.
coincidentally a letter i received from ben today (of course i'll be your valentine) talked of what a typical evening at swat would be like if i were there. i'd dance reluctantly, make faces at some noisy overcrowded party, and we'd end up somewhere quieter talking or watching a movie. quite possibly. luckily it didn't seem to bother him.

the combination of the letter and eliz's statements about her discomfort in social situations made me ponderous. primarily, my thoughts ran as follows: yes, i like to be in warm cozy familiar places with warm cozy familiar people, preferably laughing, with my notebook at arm's length and a vcr nearby. would i enjoy the wild revelry that is present barn life? would i retreat from it, or would i rise to it (who are all these people?) what will happen when i go back? well, never mind that for a while.
last year i wasn't as cloistered as this past semester. whether it was jolly's influence, the hall's, being on campus, or having a lot of repressed highskool shit that needed to surface, i don't know. still, realizing that i had to get away. ignoring my occasional frustration and dissatisfaction, i was too content. i thought sometimes that i missed drama. i think what i really missed was challenge.
when i'm at swat, i often let myself get pulled into the position of Second. assistant-director, stage manager, some leadership-type position where i have say but not total control. thrown into a new situation, i've had to do things on my own. there's no jamie to navigate, no barnie to cook for me, no one to hide behind. i'm enjoying it. not eating as well, certainly missing the weekly tofu curries. but i'm enjoying it. i feel slightly more sure of myself. (bold statement, eh? some habits die hard.) i'm alone! and simultaneously not alone at all, and doing fine.
i can't speak for eliz, of course. i only own one pair of fleece pajamas and she gets a new pair, in a different shade of pastel, every year. but i think the funny thing about comfort zones is that there's always a lastditch one you carry around with you, in a bright red bag or whatever, and it'll accompany you much farther and is much more resilient than you might expect.