The opposite of Bad
I love my cousins. I had the best time with them, especially Sarah, mostly because she's my age. We kept busy from Wednesday until today (Sunday) and had fun consistently. I met Sarah's boyfriend, and...he gets the seal of approval and then some. He's the kind of guy I'd want as a close friend, and I haven't met too many like that. I pulled a couple of muscles playing Twister, but it was worth it. While staying at my house, we spent a day in Toronto. There's this guitar store on Queen that almost had me salivating. Instruments always have that effect on me - even though I can't play any of them. Other than that, we laughed and slept. There is so much that I'd like to write, but I find that when something happens that is quite good (or the opposite) the actual event holds too much meaning to try rehashing for the purpose of journaling. This last week I've been feeling great. I don't mean to say that everything has gone perfectly, but I'm happy and I like who I am and where I am. Because of that, I've stopped thinking about why I am. Somehow it doesn't matter in the least.
I got some of my books for school, but they didn't have everything I need so I'll be going back probably sometime next week. Anyone want to journey to UTM? We could wander around and get lost in the South Building. It's more confusing to me than it should be. Ah! I get to read Waiting for Godot in my English Literature class! I now own a copy of that beautiful existential work. When I read the scene that I performed in class I couldn't help but recite the lines aloud - in my best grumpy old man voice. That was my favourite part in drama. I almost wrote a poetic description of the view from my window, but that would have been a cheap way of trying to end my entry with something profound. Truth is, I have nothing. Oh wait! How about: you know you're happy when dreaming seems like a mediocre alternative to reality.