YEAR TWO, SEMESTER ONE.

And so comes the end of things.
I would boldly say that this semester is coming quickly to a close, and no one would dare argue with me. However, it is for vastly different circumstances that I find myself dreading its final nature. For, as things cease to be an everyday part of life, they, in some way, shape, or form, cease to exist with certainty. Surely everyday life is uncertain enough, but as an individual, one works to reinforce the security possible, so as to preserve whatever hope of continuity is possible.
This evening was as successful as I thought this evening could possibly be, and yet, I am overwhelmed with the uneasiness that the close of this term will bring me. I earnestly yearn for some sort of security, some ease in the pang of change, and some solid resolution that life will not be so restless and domineering of the things I seek out.

On a relatively unrelated note, the epic Night of Bridal seemed to run the way I had hoped it would. It seemed well-received, and I'm eager and hopeful that Friday will prove similar in quality.

BREAKING (IN SO MANY MORE WAYS THAN ONE).

Things will get better.

They have to.

THINGS KOALA BEARS WOULD SAY.

(BY TIM WEINMANN)

Yay!

Love me!

Climbing trees is fun!

Let's volunteer at a soup kitchen this Christmas.

My tongue is funny!

Eating leaves is fun!

Will you help me think of something nice we can do for Grandma?

Look, a pouch!

Let's prevent a forest fire!

No, you're the cutest ever.

Camus is boring. I find Karl Jaspers's philosophy much more enlightening.

Wheeee!

Let's make cider!

I bet I'll live forever!

Eternal gratitude to McSweeney's Internet Tendancy Lists.

DIRECTIONS FOR A SUCCESSFUL [DAY] [ANNIVERSARY] [NOVEMBER 3RD].

1. Attempt to leave Speech Communications 101 ten minutes early.
2. Get moderately lost on I95.
3. Lose the car that is following you.
4. Yell at your passenger. Loudly.
5. Gently rear-end an SUV.
6. Take a Shakespearean Performance workshop.
7. Decide how and why Mr. and Mrs. Macbeth lost their child.
8. Notice the ping-pong shaped hole in your orange vehicle.
9. Try to relax. Shop. Good combinations like that.
10. Eat dinner at a loud, busy, expensive restaurant.
11. Plant a dead battery in your car.
12. Call AAA. Jump start the mother-effer.
13. Drive home in relative silence/embarrassment.
14. Watch a scary movie. "Rosemary's Baby," or something comparative.
15. Sleep.

PICTURES.

A hodge-podge of the week with a new camera phone that I would "know biblically" if that were possible.