Started the day with a trip to CIM to check my email, dland, etc. An email from Lani awaited me -- on Saturday in Bath we shall have nearly 12 hours together unrestricted -- that's until 4:30 am, mind you -- and all is in place to, as she put it, "rock the fraq out." Nedless, almost nothing at this point could make me happier. Josh and Lani are perhaps the one real stable interpersonal force in my life, and for that, among many things I could not fully explain or comprehend, I love them dearly.

[omission]

In Consumers and/or Citizens the aforemetioned (in passing) Graham joined our ranks and sat next to me, and being then the only person in the class I knew at all instantly became my seminar partner. He reminds me a bit of Chad [Edwards] minus the philosophy, hence minus any potentially attractive/endearing quirkiness, but with every last drop of that now shy and boyish now in-your-face and swearing Texan... charm, for desperate want of a better word. Well, he's an interesting enough person, that is to say I like him, actually, I'm just not sure about preparing assignments together. I've never been a fan of group work (I already warned him of that) and he strikes me as more casual, less academic than an ideal partner. Plus, I hate to even make the tired, presumptuous leap, but in his sloppy manliness, the way he leans in to talk quietly, I'm already preparing to ward off any advances. So I like him, do not trust him, and am not in the least attracted to him, in short.

Erin, who had great potential for fleeting friendship, seems to have dropped the course. I looked for her desperately when confronted with the inescapable Graham, but she appears to be, alas, lost and gone forever.

But in Dutch Present-Day Society I was presented with a viable Erin substitute -- she was among the five people I referred vaguely to yesterday, and today we resumed our pre- post- and mid-class discussions which, to my amazement and great pleasure, got to more interesting topics at record speed. During the lecture I thought at some point it will become just ludicrous to ask her for her name -- how do you enjoy talking to someone for three days and not catch their name? She in the end admitted first to not knowing mine, and hers is Jess, and if you must also know the boring details she is a linguistics major from Florida. She helped me sort through a bank card confusion, offered her future Netherlands-wise experience, and entreated me to keep her in mind for any future trips like my recent one to the Hague, as she too so rarely had anyone to go with. My rist reaction was defensive -- no, that's mine; didn't I say I had no one here? -- but the more we talked, the nicer it sounded. I could have a friend here, after all.

On the other hand, whatever connection I might have had to Francesca seems to be fading, which surprisingly bothers me. We didn't go to Amsterdam after all last week (prudent; there really was too much work), and I think my games of autonomy have been played too far: I rarely seek her out, and I rarely take her offers lately. She went to Belgium for the weekend and I still don't really know how that was -- I talked to Jess more in class, she talked to Troels more at home. Our relationship has become almost businesslike, transactional: she needs my cell phone charger, I need her drying rack. And I think, very much in spite of myself, I really had come to like her. Perhaps the weekend in Bath will bring us closer; perhaps she will resent me or go on without me when I spend most of Saturday with Josh and Lani.

And Troels came down to chat a bit about our respective weekend excursions and other random chatty bits not worth mentioning and barely worth having said. But he is a very nice guy, a stabilizing force in the flat to be sure, and I like him very genuinely.

All that said, it's back to my other faithful friend and lover, fraught of course with uncertainty and ambivalence -- feminist scholarship.

(later)

My conclusions about Francesca seem to have been a bit off-target... She came to me tonight, always on the verge of tears, and confessed her overpowering homesickness. I don't think I'm ever good at comforting someone who is crying -- the best I can usually do is cry along with them, but though I'm feeling many of the same things as Francesca, I'm not even close to tears over it.

We talked about our disconnection from home, loved ones, world events. How I have a dangerous, sometimes self-defeating tendency toward solitude (isolation) and how she, while comfortable with autonomy, knows she needs people. We're both fed up with the general characterization of Americans, the ubiquitous sense of being different, and the fact that the only people we seem to be meeting are other Americans. I shared a lot of the conclusions I've come to recently in this diary about experiences being better when shared. She asked if I would go places with her. She seemed vulnerable and needy -- of course I would, but I couldn't reassure her -- it was "I need you," not "wouldn't it be fun if we," and I couldn't echo that sentiment even though I did welcome it's conclusion. I do think that she resents -- or a word closer to "is saddened by" -- the fact that I'll have Lani and Josh this weekend. It's funny -- while from my perspective my autonomy can become a burden, isolating, she sees it as a strength, me leaving her behind, not needing anyone. I tried to be honest: I do get homesick; I have been very alone. But next to her I felt, and must have appeared, terribly unfeeling. It is nice to have each other, and I need to stop being so remote. She needs me -- it is nice to be needed. So what if she is not the stuff of which epic friendship is made? We could have a better time together than alone.

"You don't have to go with me tomorrow, it's just--"
"No, I mean, we're going to the same place..."
is inadequate.

From now on it ought to be
"No, Francesca, I want to."
And that will not be a lie.