I survived my first year and the only thing I lost was my self-esteem. Time to get to work on my liver.

No term papers means fewer updates. I know, the loyal readership withers and pines. Here's a 5-point recap of the last two weeks:

1. Don't return library books on the same trip to campus in which you hazily, sleeplessly, turn in your last paper. You'll mix up books that belong to the library and books that belong to your friends (once again, Gwen, really sorry about that).
2. I would probably marry Erinn even if she didn't make pie. But the pie pushes it over the edge.
3. You should go on the Capitol tour. It's only 45 minutes long, and pretty interesting. The Capitol is beautiful inside. Also, it is full of badgers. Real ones or statues? I'll just let you wonder.
4. Getting really excited about J&K Do South America, the Sequel. Cuz, uhhhhh... look at this freaking place.
5. It turns out that even when you're 25, having your mom come visit makes you feel 15.

It's funny how my priorities change when the semester ends. I have a to-do list that never gets to-done, because while reading lots of theory, working up papers for conferences, and re-organizing my photo negatives all seem like seductive projects while I have term papers, I lose interest rapidly once the term papers go away and I realize that 1-10 on my to-do list are actually all "sitting on my ass." Not a new problem, but I have a new strategy: giving in to it. Since the semester ended, and especially in the last couple of days since my mom left, I have been doing a remarkable amount of ass-sitting, and you know what? It's good. I've been slowly adding in drinking and DVD-watching, but I'm trying to pace myself.

Oh, except for last night when I got big-time drunk during and after the Sex and the City movie, which is fucking long. And there's way too much squealing. AND CHEERING IN THE THEATER. I HATE MOVIES WHERE THE AUDIENCE CHEERS. CARRIE BRADSHAW CAN'T HEAR YOU! But though I never thought I'd be part of the mass of estrogen crowding the theatre on opening night, wearing "I'm a Carrie" or "I'm with Big" t-shirts, I can hit pause on my cynicism long enough to admit that it was fun. I give the movie one thumb up, so long as your other hand is wrapped around booze.

But I did not get as mega-drunk as my boyfriend and his new butt-buddy, whose initials (coincidence? who's to say?) are BB. We came home to find them absorbed in an epic video game marathon and 2/3 deep into a handle of Cutty. Oh, boys. The Butt-Buddies also did something I'm not supposed to talk about. No, no, not that. The penises in this adventure are metaphorical. (Okay, okay, don't tell MW, but they bought Guitar Hero. Shhhh.)

The gang's coming back from whatever that $tate was they went to, and the 10-day is full of bright sunny afternoons for sitting around in the park, sitting at Mallards games, sitting in front of a grill, sitting on the terrace, sitting on the steps of the Sacred Feather with ice cream, and sitting pretty much anywhere with booze. I wonder if we could set up beer pong with chairs. It's gonna be a good summer.*





*Except for BE and MT leaving for the summer. What's up with that, dudes?