from grand central, it is two hours and fifteen minutes to new haven, connecticut, home of the yale bulldogs.

we were on the train with three yale and one harvard alum who all seemed to be coworkers. they began drinking on the train, which took off around 9 a.m., and then we (o.f. and i) saw them at the game in all their rowdy glory.

it's an odd community, that town is. i wonder how everyone is connected to this place. lots of students, lots of people who graduated from yale previously, but also lots of people from surrounding towns or cities who just enjoy the spectacle, like us.

i wrote a poem about the game itself and some random observations i made.

we went to see a show at night which surfaced many odd, frustrating, weird thoughts for me.

being an observer makes me feel so useless and unimportant, a feeling i hate very profoundly. observing a football game isn't so bad because at least you participate in creating the environment. but a show, where i have to sit in silence and watch someone else live out their dream and hold the audience captive? fucking hell.

this is likely a terrible reflection of my character.

shouldn't i be content to not be the center of attention?

made joke after joke after joke, all day long, making my newfound new haven friends laugh, and i'm told to sit down for a few hours and watch someone else perform and i hate it.

it's quite alright.

the train back was peaceful, and o.f. and i spoke for the first time all day, really. i had been frustrated with her in the morning, she's a bit indecisive and too passive, but we finally hashed some things out through conversation and i empathized more with the way she moves through the world. we were closer.