Flaunt the Font

This time I'm writing out of a sense of obligation more than anything else. I figure this thing was set up as a chronicle of my college experience, I might as well chronicle it.

I hate it when I type stupid things like that and then realize that what I've just typed holds no real weight but was just to fill up space. Maybe you know what I mean, or maybe you don't.

I always seem to find myself writing in these periods when I'm about to leave some place. Right now I'm about to leave room A 5-308 for the rest of the year. I'm going home today to start what I can only imagine will be about two weeks of numbness to the world. I will sleep until 11. I will comb through page after page of ebay. I will eat an unhealthy amount of food. All of this will be done and nothing that I actually need to be doing will probably get done at all. This isn't me being a pessimist - it's me being realistic. I've been doing this for 15 years now, I kind of have a knack for the prediction.

In the midst of all of that, however, there are still some things that I hope to get done fairly soon. I want to test out my recorder that I bought back in August and, well, actually record something. No one will probably ever hear what is recorded and that is fine with me. I will practice guitar and FINALLY GET PAST LESSON 7. Dang it! I really want to do that. I also want to send out some Christmas cards and visit a few choice friends - I hope that goes well.

Looking back on this semester, it's been pretty fun. I've made lots of new friends and finally lifted fully from the funk that set in on me a year ago. There are plenty of new people that I'm excited to be hanging out with - and pipe smoking and tea drinking (good grief, how have I not written a post on tea drinking?) I also have that final spring semester that's looking like it shaped up quite nicely. I have a senior seminar in both film and English to fill out my requirements for each major, a final literature class, a random garbage class to get the 124 hours needed for graduation and finally, an internship which is needed for my professional writing certification (yes, the person who writes the garbage you are now reading is being certified by an accredited university as a professional writer). That's pretty exciting because through a crazy turn of events I got hooked up with a really cool writer who lives here in Wilmington and, long story short, I think I'll be able to put GQ as an internship on my resume. I'm sure I'll have a lot to write about concerning my time working under Mr. John Sullivan next year.

Now it's 3:40 and I have ten tons of stuff to pack and a shower to take before I can leave.

I want a lawn tractor and a field of spam asap. Who's ready for canned shavings?