back in high school, during academic-related dances, i used to work with the art department in setting up and taking the pictures of the momentarily happy couples who were soon to be having a "fun" filled evening.  i never went to high school dances.  no one really wanted to go with me and looking back at it i probably wouldn't have enjoyed it anyway.  not a big loss.  however, just kind of being there and watching all these people in an absurd amount of getup for a single few hours have a decent time somehow allowed me to have a decent time as well.  those nights always started out the same; i'd arrive, go to the art department headquarters, begin set up and then partake of some complimentary pizza and drink, then perform the duty which you were assigned for the next three hours.  i always worked as a cashier.  although i only did this four times throughout the four years i was in high school, each time was fun, amusing. i'm not quite sure why.  perhaps it was because i was able to become a temporary part of something, a cause.  maybe it's because i like to make my self depressed and implanted myself to see situations where i always thought i would want to be but never would end up.

my parents sent me a package of food.  however, as i'm going home next weekend, i found this slightly odd.  also, i feel horrible about receiving it, namely because it seems like: i fail an exam, they feel poorly for me, try to console me somehow, but i feel poorly not only for myself but for letting down their expectations of my performance.  it's not a good cycle, if you can call it that.  double guilt-trip?  indeed.