Fuck right off.

love, Eon.

I think I've given myself carpal tunnel syndrome with the millions of pages I've produced lately. Also in the collegiate woe section, I worked literally all night on my English paper, felt really happy about handing it in on time this morning, laid down for a misguided moment and promptly slept through class. Bugger.

Three days, and I'll be dipping my toes in the Pacific. Well, not literally, but the idea is nice. I'll be able to add another state to the list which (including airports) reads as follows:

-Florida

-Georgia

-South Carolina

-New Jersey

-Missouri

-Colorado

-Washington

So I'm pretty cosmopolitan. Or at least I thought I was until a philosophy student wearing beads told me that 'for a really transformative experience, you should really check out Venezuela, really.' Which made me feel like my time here has meant precisely nothing because I haven't slogged through any rainforests yet, so I had to use the word 'disingenuous' so that I could feel superior to him.

Have I told that story already? Oh DiaryLand, I'm sorry I'm neglecting you.

I know this is short, but I'm really sick of typing and we're going to watch 'Lock, Stock and Two Smoking Pretentious Faux-Gangster Movies'.

And, Erin, please can I have the sloth sweater?