Yesterday, the Hindu Student Council celebrated Holi. I discovered that it is a very nice way to pay back students who have exasperated me all semester. Unfortunately, not all of them attended, so I had to make do with focusing my super soaker on those who did show up, maybe they'll pass my message onto the rest. It was fun, and for some reason, out of all the people the reporter talked to, he chose to take a quote from the old, atheist white lady about the celebration for the article in the student newspaper (that is, me).

What I really discovered yesterday was that just because the doctor said, "It would be good for your knee if you try to move it around and use it," she did not mean "Run around Illini Grove with a group of people half your age." I think I mentioned to the three people who care that my knee was not broken, but it might as well have been, I think. The doctor was filling my ears with frightening speculations about "wiring the knee cap together" before I proved to her it wasn't broken by having negative X-rays. I figured it wasn't broken, and therefore put off going to the doctor for two weeks after I hurt myself, but it was in kind of a between stage with pain so I thought I should get it checked. It hurt less than my arm did the last time I broke it, but more than my arm did the last time I didn't break it. (That last sentence probably makes sense to no one but me.) Anyway, it isn't so much painful right now as just weird. I can press on my knee and feel the liquid trying to escape the pressure of my fingers. It makes me sick to my stomach, but it doesn't hurt.