If nothing else, writing stupid amounts of essays is serving the very useful purpose of making me update this much more frequently. And that is good. Because you all really, really care about my life, don't you?

On second thought, please don't answer that. I'm listening to one of my first CDs I made back in 1999 when we first got our new computer with the CD burner. It's called Just Rock Past It. Good times, good times.

I'd like to take this moment to recognize my mom as the awesome woman that she is. I was discussing a decision that I will be having to make shortly with her on the phone, and she warned me not to do anything hasty. I replied that I usually don't do anything hastily (that's why my nickname is Snail) and she replied, "I know--I was in labour for a day and a half." Oy. I did not know that. Wow. I have spent most of my life being totally ungrateful of her love.

I love the Rod Stewart version of "Man of Constant Sorrow". I bet my dad is really disappointed that it's become a 'hot' song once again. Back in the days of the coffeehouse and my dad rocking out with regularity, it used to be one of his signature pieces, because 'no one ever does it'. Such a great song, though.

Must write essay. Only four more pages to go. Dammit.

I've decided to turn my 'Shades of Kevin Smith' dialogue into an actual play. I hope it's okay. It seems to be largely flat and uninteresting right now, but perhaps this will improve when I actually have a plot.

Psych test on Thursday and I haven't done any of the reading for it. Fuck fuck fuckity fuck. I seem to curse a lot these days--I should really clean up my potty mouth before going home.

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