It's a sign. I don't know what it's a sign of, but it's a sign.

Saturday afternoon, the roomie had a date with some guy she'd never met before. Obviously that made her uncomfortable, so she asked him if it'd be all right for her to bring another couple along. As we all know, I'm up for anything. So, I took a stroll over to the guys' building and started knocking on doors. An FHE brother named Matt consented to go with me. We had a grand ol' time at the marionette show (which may have been creepy were it not so incredible), even though we sat two rows in front of the couple we were supposed to be accompanying/chaperoning, and we ditched out of ice cream afterwards for the football game (disregard that dumb decision).

Yesterday at hall meeting there emerged a raffle. Feeling really good about raffles (5 of the 13 extras at the yogurt camp-out actually got yogurt by winning a raffle. I was not one of those 5), I tossed in my tickets and slumped in my sweats to the back of the room. Laughing at my daring, I crossed my fingers for the grand prize. Turns out I'm now a firm believer in crossing the fingers, because I'm the proud owner of a Date Night package! Good thing I'm practiced at defying social norms. Soon to come: Date night at Divine Comedy and the Cougar Eat with some poor self-imposed soul mate. Sounds pretty ghetto-fab to me.

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