You know when you say something in a regular conversation to someone and it turns out to be rightly prophetic in light of the next few days’ events?  I hate it: usually because my statements are like, “people suck in the short-run.”  I had this conversation at Rishi’s birthday party Saturday night, and Sunday was just this massive reaffirmation of my belief in the fundamental inability of people to function the way anyone expects them to.

I guess there isn’t anything that doesn’t reaffirm this belief for me, even just on a daily basis, and I guess I should expect those sorts of things to happen.  I mean, I know the statement that people suck in the short-run is pretty general and vague.  It could really mean anything.  But the fact of the matter is, the smaller the scale I look at human beings on, the less I like them.

I feel a little listless and strange.  The thing of it is, and I spoke with Anna about this last night, that Ann Arbor is too comfortable a place.  We get caught up in our little circles of friends (little overlapping circles of friends), get lost on the Internet now and then, disappear into our homes, but nobody really upsets the order here.  And we get so comfortable with this way of life (which, by the way, isn’t so bad on the whole, but for this) that there are things that go on that (I get the feeling) elsewhere would not go unpunished.  But the times I want to create a ruckus, not unjustifiably, on behalf of someone I care about, I don’t.  I don’t because I value my place in this mess, and I know I’ll be here for another two to six years.

In Ann Arbor people come and go, but I think that, like everywhere, there will always be people to fill the archetypes that we expect in our social circles.  People in Ann Arbor, like everywhere, talk.  They don’t shut up.  I resolve to spend more time watching and listening rather than gossiping and screaming.