tacino.

i've discovered that one of the accomplishments that i treasure most is introducing someone to a song that they like. not just like, but listen to on repeat, endlessly, until there ears are numb. it's wonderful. possibly better than baking cookies, maybe.

not.

this is me not writing my paper.

hungry.

it's come to my attention that i should no longer be allowed to carry cough drops around in my bag. as a hungry tired overworked sore eyeball sad college student, i sometimes am too busy to eat. unconsciously, it appears that i eat cough drops in class when i am hungry. this may or may not be healthy. i guess i've got extra vitamin c.

do it.

an ad popped up on my facebook today instructing me that "in order to get high you should inhale jesus". good to know i guess.

punch.

i got punched in the face today by coffee. majorly drop kicked. my caffeinated friend severely betrayed me.
1) i poured myself some crappy dining hall joe, taming it with sugar. how was my generosity returned? the damn shit exploded out of my hand and scalded me. scald. ow.
2) so, after my sad coffee fail of breakfast, i decided to get some better coffee that has a lid from the coffee stand. well, this soft and airy latte? i tried to drink it out of a hole in the lid that didn't exist. so of course the coffee spilled all down my front.

calculus was spent sucking the coffee out of my hair and shirt and holding my burnt burnt burnt fingers in a glass of seltzer.

sadly, i still have to drink it again tomorrow. shit.

a party worth having.

let's have a beatnik party
"every teen goes for a party that's off beat. you can have a beatnik party any time of the year, in any weather, anywhere, and it's way out."
"like cra-a-a-zy cool"

good idea right?

riding lessons.

for me.

i love these.

best.

favorite ad vs. reality ever. gets me every time.

sorry.

i've been spotty lately on posting, i know. sorry. it's my fault. or perhaps that of the chill or the lonely ceramic pig that eyes me down while i type. or maybe the music talking my brain out of moving. i haven't been writing as much, but i'm still collecting pictures. i'll try to at least post some pics when i'm on the lazy side.

also, lacrosse boys talking about "this writer whitman and 19th century shit" in the dining hall. proof that even jocks read.

reason to read credits.

always sunny in philadelphia names in the credits:
tyree dingle, keith orefice, lyndsey gayer, and eric budlong

wonderful.

musings on coupling.

some words for the wise:
"couples that dread lock together stay together"

also, loud freshmen doin' it upstairs makes for unsettling dreams.

b-room.

shit i find in the cubbies in our gender-neutral bathroom:
- a neurobiology textbook
- a bottle of german wine
- an ornamental wreath
- a dehumidifier
- toilets

strange stuff.