I'm always home. I'm uncool.
This next week stands before me, imposing, leering down at me as if to cast some doubt on my capability as a college student.
Like I need that.
Basically, this next week is going to be the gauntlet through which I must run to get to the sprawling green valleys of Christmas Break.
And oh, how glorious it shall be.
Next week is shaping up to be spectacular. First, it goes without saying that next week marks the release of Return of the King, which I anticipate being the most erection inducing piece of film ever to see the silver screen.
I have tickets to the 12:01 show at the Common, which will mark the conclusion of a three year ritual involving Mike, both of our fathers, and Lord of the Rings premiers. Sad to see it end, and yet hope remains that it might be resurrected for the future release of a Hobbit film.
Almost equally significant is the fact that Guster is playing two shows in Maine that will be filmed for their live dvd. Adam and I are certain of going, along with the likely attendance of Paul, Pesce, and our boy Josh from Op Smile. It's looking like we might make both shows, which shall be glorious.
All of this, coupled with the fact that I really hate existence right now, makes next week look like the Jenna Haze to this week's Jeneanne Garafalo (sp? Oh wait, I don't give a shit). Anyone who knows the Jenna Haze reference gets a knowing nod and a smirk from me.
On a seperate note, I'm racking up apologies this week. I feel like I'm a priest at confession. Y'know, minus the little kids and the anal sex.
The thing with apologies is, as good as they are, and as much as they mend bridges, the fact that an apology was needed doesn't go away. But it sure does help.
Peace and good karma.
Like I need that.
Basically, this next week is going to be the gauntlet through which I must run to get to the sprawling green valleys of Christmas Break.
And oh, how glorious it shall be.
Next week is shaping up to be spectacular. First, it goes without saying that next week marks the release of Return of the King, which I anticipate being the most erection inducing piece of film ever to see the silver screen.
I have tickets to the 12:01 show at the Common, which will mark the conclusion of a three year ritual involving Mike, both of our fathers, and Lord of the Rings premiers. Sad to see it end, and yet hope remains that it might be resurrected for the future release of a Hobbit film.
Almost equally significant is the fact that Guster is playing two shows in Maine that will be filmed for their live dvd. Adam and I are certain of going, along with the likely attendance of Paul, Pesce, and our boy Josh from Op Smile. It's looking like we might make both shows, which shall be glorious.
All of this, coupled with the fact that I really hate existence right now, makes next week look like the Jenna Haze to this week's Jeneanne Garafalo (sp? Oh wait, I don't give a shit). Anyone who knows the Jenna Haze reference gets a knowing nod and a smirk from me.
On a seperate note, I'm racking up apologies this week. I feel like I'm a priest at confession. Y'know, minus the little kids and the anal sex.
The thing with apologies is, as good as they are, and as much as they mend bridges, the fact that an apology was needed doesn't go away. But it sure does help.
Peace and good karma.