Sweet, I found that typewritey font, I like that. I'm in the English building yet again, ditching my awful anth class and waiting for my awesome art history class. I had a dream last night featuring the now ethereal Matt Lazzara and the mysterious traveller who should have 'boxcar' attached somewhere in his name, Joey [M]Alone. We had a party in the basement of McClure Jr. High at night which seemed like the best idea in the world. I remember someone remarking, 'They'll never suspect that the kids are at school at night, it's the last place they'll look.' It's ironic considering that Brody, Orlowski and I almost got arrested at McClure at night while we were on one of our 'sneaking out' adventures in seventh grade.

I've been trying to write a story to enter into an Atlantic contest for college writers, but as usual I'm having trouble putting together a cohesive narrative. It seems like the ideas come to me either when I'm in class - in which case I make inadequate and cryptic notes that I either 1)Never Read or 2)wonder what the hell I wrote when I read them. The 'or' to that previous 'either' is when I'm inebriated, even slightly. The thoughts and ideas flow when the synapses of my brain are lubricated by substance, but the machinations of my body and work ethic block the ideas from becoming reality. And I wake up and forget, or I make more useless notes.

BUT, I'll keep trying, and I am writing, and I do have until the first of December, so I can do those things that I so rarely do for class, like edit and the like. Anyway, I had a lovely weekend down in Southern Illinois with me friends and companions camping out, and visiting natural wonders. We drove perhaps too much - in an effort to get the full range of sights to see down there, and so I was stuck in the van with an irritable Voss next to me, a stressed (but making awesome radio choices) Natalie driving, a jolly bickering irreverant Kit in shotgun, and the obnoxious shrill/angry couple of Erich and Kelly in the backseat stretching their limbs so they touch me, and stepping on my seatbelt, tightening it across my chest and making me seethe.

I'll take the bad with the good. Sorry about being so wordy today, I suppose that's just how it is sometimes. Cheers.