The Ever Emerging Face of Karma

Tonight is what I would call my first solo night. I ripped the tags off my magenta top, sewed up a hole in my black capris with the leftover thread from Halloween, and put on the shoes Angel said I looked like a grandma in. (they're actually very pretty) I witnessed the glitter of Friday night dress as I made my way to the tall building behind the library where "A Midsummer Night's Dream" was playing. They took my dollar at the door, handed me a program, and I experience a nice retreat from the ugly parts of my Friday. I got over my fear of late-night walking and visited Metro, where I bought a two dollar vanilla hazelnut iced coffee and wrote a little bit. I was really mean to this girl my freshman year of high school. I think it was the stupidest, most retarded, dumbest thing I have ever done. I'm embarassed of it. I wanted to be looked at in a certain way in high school; I didn't want to fit in just anywhere. I was planning my reputation, and this girl that wanted to be my friend was thwarting my effort. Later on after I switched schools and grew up a little, I saw her again. She was dating my boyfriend's best friend. She was different. I remembered my initial feelings towards her at Dulles, but didn't think anything of them and treated her like I did everyone else. At graduation I gave her a hug; she returned the embrace. I just realized that I have been part of my own hate. What I despise is what I once was a part of, and I truly am sorry. I feel sorry for my involvement in ignorance. I am visiting Marshall in January as a recruitment effort to aid the diversity at UT. I am reparation-minded.