Someone tried to break into my room about an hour or so ago. Cj and I were watching a movie in bed and Kacey was trying to go to sleep when we heard a loud rustling crunching noise at my window, like someone's trying to rip the screen off. Cj jumps down immediately and grabs the baseball bat, but by the time he gets to the window whoever it is has left, leaving the screen all twisted and pushed inwards about half a foot. It looked like somebody was trying to pry it open with a crowbar. Kacey ran and got an RA while Cj paced around the room with the bat, at one point shouting to a guy outside and asking him if he'd tried to get into the room. The guy looked scared shitless. Anyway, the RAs called the cops, who came in and looked around, asked us a few questions, then left. So now I'm in bed, thoroughly freaked, hugging my big human teddy bear and thanking god he was here. I mean, don't get me wrong, I would've bashed the guy's lights out, but I'm much happier to have someone around that can seriously kick ass.
I hate living on the first floor.
I also hate drunken buffoons.
I am not in awe of college life right now.