Mr. Blue Sky
It has been so nice, I've been "lawning" like crazy. I know it's spring pretty much everywhere (assuming you live in the Northern Hemisphere) but in Eugene this means a whole lot more because it's nasty and rainy all winter and then suddenly it's glorious glorious spring with wildflowers and blue skies and the warm touch of sun on your skin and the smell of cut grass and the kiss of cool iced tea sunset evenings on your lips. Yesterday I convinced Mary to come with me and drink lukewarm cheap beer on the lawn behind the library. Last week I got Cory to cut French with me and we just soaked up the sun for a few hours. Needless to say I am shaping up to be a very bad influence. I actually think I'm getting a tan, which is pleasant and simultaneously disturbing considering I'm deathly afraid of cancer. Fuck Cancer.
I think I'm going to end up going on a date this weekend which is freaking me out because I haven't been on one in like 9 months. To make it even jucier, I don't even know this girl. I got her number at Dana's "Anything But Clothes Party" last friday, and the extent of knowledge i know about her is limited to age, school, name (first only), phone numer, and maybe hair color (I'm not totally sure on that one).
I need to go write my Film and Politics paper, but blah to the blah extreme. I think I'm gonna go walk home.
Yes My computer is still broke.
Yes I am going to kill those damn tech guys.
I think I'm going to end up going on a date this weekend which is freaking me out because I haven't been on one in like 9 months. To make it even jucier, I don't even know this girl. I got her number at Dana's "Anything But Clothes Party" last friday, and the extent of knowledge i know about her is limited to age, school, name (first only), phone numer, and maybe hair color (I'm not totally sure on that one).
I need to go write my Film and Politics paper, but blah to the blah extreme. I think I'm gonna go walk home.
Yes My computer is still broke.
Yes I am going to kill those damn tech guys.
1 Comments:
Yes. Indeed. Fuck cancer. Fuck cancer right in it's metaphorical a-hole. And then, an after sex cigarette.
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