Freak Out.

I have officially moved out of UMass. It's official because my naked dorm was inspected by a power hungry RA who pointed out a few dust bunnies and proceeded to perch her sweaty self on my bed and watch as I swept them. Degrading? Maybe. Did I care? No.

Good bye, dustbunnies the size of my fist.
Good bye, Mutants.
Good bye, popcorn bedtime stories that just turned into blatant mockeries.
Good bye, Thirsty for the Atlantic Thursdays.
Good bye, Loser, Christine, Deb, Sir Nicolas, Linda, and all of the pixilized friends.
Good bye, Dihty Bihd, Natale the Scarecrow, and all of the other knick-knacks with names.
Good bye, Thstefanie.
Good bye, Professor Janice and Writing 112, aka The Class That Didn't Get It.
Good bye, Worcester Wednesdays and flavored soft serve holidays.
Good bye, Tuesday/Thursday Breakfast Club.
Good bye, Quiet Hours.
Good bye, Zen Garden and Cotton Eyed Joe Nightly Performances.
Good bye, Adorable Baby Ducks.
Good bye, "UCard".
But not good bye Samm, cause I love ya.
Also, not good bye American Politics...cause I still have to take that final.

...It's been real.

Hello, Summer? This should be interesting.

You fight to hold on, you fight to let go.

I have three days left of freshman year, of UMass in general.

Three days in which to write papers, study for tests, and transform the dorm back into a cinder block cell equipped with high speed internet.

Originally I had big, elaborate, profound realizations here. But I realized that they simply weren't worth it. Whatever. What's important is that I'm basically done and I can almost taste that dirty water. I can't prevent the inevitable now any more than I could have prevented it months ago.

So I'm going to continue writing papers and studying for tests and praying that Samm's back lesions do not lead to...well, I think we both know what skin lesions lead to, don't we? coughspithackpelvicexamssnortwheezelick

Annnnd there is a moth in the room. I will not rest until he has perished.

Aaaaaaayup.

Dry as a bone in the Sahara.

Every time I eat cotton candy (and I literally mean EVERY time, ever since I was like, five) all I can think of is its uncanny resemblance to fiberglass insulation and how much it would hurt if you got the two mixed up.

Icky.

A poster girl with no poster.

Your Birthdate: January 29

Your birthday on the 29th adds a tone of idealism to your nature.  You are imaginative and creative, but rather uncomfortable in the business world.  You are very aware and sensitive, with outstanding intuitive skills and analytical abilities.  The 29 reduces to 11, one of the master numbers which often produces much nervous tension.  This is the birthday of the dreamer rather than the doer.  You do, however, work very well with people.

Okay so after I did mine, I put in some of my friends' birthdays to see if they ALL sucked a little, but alas they do not. January 29th, way to be.

I am unbelievably ready for summer and even more unbelievably ready for fall. I'm getting the impression that both are going to be considerably different from last summer and last fall, which is kind of unfortunate and really wonderful, consecutively. I hear The Riverway is breathtaking in September..

Dreamer rather than a Doer? Yeah, we'll see. I don't think doer is even a real word.

It is May 1st. Shouldn't we all be dancing around a pole with ribbons? Was May Day the origin of exotic dancing?

Think lovely thoughts

This weekend was sublime.


Today was probably the most upsetting mix of crappy weather I have ever experienced. Is it raining? Is it windy? Is it sunny? Is it cold?


Whatever it was, I was not dressed for it. But it's fine.


I don't think I'll ever not be completely mesmerized by Peter Pan. And I mean this in the least Michael Jackson-y way possible. 


I drank a TON of water today, and for no good reason. I'm so hydrated.


You all really needed to know that.

Pinchez- Moi.

"...Since 1880, intelligent and talented students like you have used their Emerson College education to become leaders in their fields. We look foward to you becoming a part of this tradition of academic excellence, and we welcome you to a place where people believe in your dreams."

That just may be the most beautiful thing that I have ever read, ever in my life.


Emerson in the fall? Yeah, I love it!

Do you know?

I wonder if everyone's appeal is monitered by a meter, and you're only allowed to fool people into believing you're worthwhile for an allotted amount of time before it eventually runs out. Then it suddenly becomes glaringly obvious to everyone that you're not all you cracked up to be, so they set off in search of someone who just threw in a bunch of quarters.

Mine's out of order at the moment. No matter how hard I try, I can't seem to redeem myself.

It'd be nice if I could fix this.