http://www.nytimes.com/2005/10/18/national/18evolution.html

Can we say Monkey Trial?

Oh, and the music was not intentional.

Last night didn't really hurt, but it sure as hell was embarrassing.

This, again, feels like home. This place has its moments of glory, when the yellow leaves are all on the ground and fallen into puddles, then lining up like something Andy Goldsworthy would think of. The weather channel describes this as "torrential" rain, but it's really not so bad. We get this at home, although it usually doesn't last all day ( Read more... )

I'm not sure this is working any more. I'm kind of afraid, but I'm more afraid of the fact that it might just need to happen. And I'm very afraid that I haven't really gotten much of anywhere.

I am terrified. I don't want to leave my room today.

I have grown more immature here.

This is where I work best. In my mind. I'm losing connection again, in that my frail connections with people here are starting to show their true nature, and once again I am relegated to trusting my thoughts and my bed, sleep being my panacea ( Read more... )

Fuck.

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

Such a slow day.

Things are going well. Last week was terrible, but then I went to Maine. Maine was fantastic. Now this week is turning out better than expected. No class tomorrow.

Transmission.

In the words of Peter Lemons: Wackshit Express.