Well, this weekend started really horribly and ended well. Dad and I went out on Saturday to run a few errands and go to the library, but as we were driving past the field on our left Dad noticed something on the verge in the weeds. We stopped and got out--to make a long story short, it turned out to be George, our calico cat, dead by the side of the road. He was apparently hit in the head by a car and killed instantly. We took him home and buried him in an old medicine cabinet (don't ask where it came from--I forget) on the northern edge of the yard, with Spencer and Aka, the other gone-but-not-forgotten cats of the Eden household.
So now our cat family has lost its head. No more George begging by the door, no more George demanding food, no more George lying near my bed in the morning, stretching out in the sunshine. No more of the loveable, annoying things he used to do. *sigh* I'm gonna miss him.
On a somewhat better note, we went to David and Jennifer Spears' Memorial Day party today. I brought my twelve string and met a few other guitarists, one of whom also played mandolin. He got it out and David got his bass and we jammed for a long time. We played some blues, a few songs like "Wish You Were Here" and "Uncle John's Band." Then the guitar/mandolin player, Tom, played "Friend of the Devil" and I joined in. We messed around for a long time--too bad there were no girls my age there. Oh well. Next time. It was a lot of fun anyway.

Today was an interesting day. I got up at a fairly decent hour for once to go into town. Hung out at the Mudhouse for a while reading books and drinking coffee and then I happened to hear music playing outside. I listened closely--it sounded familiar. Sure enough, it turned out to be Nickeltown, one of the awesomest (yes, that is a word) local bands. So I hung out and requested a song or two and talked to Browning and Jeff (the two members--singer and guitarist). Jeff's really amazing to watch--I could sit gawking at the riffs and fingerstyles he does for an entire set. There seemed to be a perfect confluence of Heaven and Earth while they were singing and playing--little kids dancing below the steps where they were playing, old people stopping to watch and smile, businesspeople, vagrants, people like me and people like anyone else stopping and rejoicing in that one expression of joy and creativity that seemed to hang, semi-tangible, in the air.
Anyways, after that wonderful little episode in my life, we went home and Jamie showed up to wish Mom a happy birthday (since today--or yesterday--was her birthday. Happy Birthday, Mom!) and to hang out for a bit. Which was good, since I haven't seen him since we went over to his house during Spring Break.
And tomorrow I go back to Fuqua to visit. I went there earlier in the week, but my timing and luck being what they are, I chose the day of the awards ceremony. Didn't want to hang around for that. Let's see if tomorrow (today? whatever) is any better.

Laura gave me a run-by hug online tonight and Alicia IM'ed me out of the blue.
Hmm.

I guess this goes to show women like me better when I'm not physically around.

It takes a village to raise a child, but it only takes a bulldozer to raze a village.

Whoof...now I know what it's like to be retired.
Seriously--I really feel for Jack Nicholson's character in "About Schmidt." You come out of an institution that you actually like, that you're used to, where you fit, and you suddenly don't have to DO anything anymore. What is there to do but putter about aimlessly? I, personally, on May 12th, was ready to start to the Taliaferro Freedom Army, stock up on food and water, barricade the doors, and fight off wave after wave of campus cops forcibly trying to make us leave. Alas, my dormmates had things to go home to. So do I, actually, but work doesn't start for a while and even so, I'm sort of half-dreading the return to construction. Naturally, I wouldn't be doing it if I didn't sort of like it--but every bad memory of last summer is etched into my mind. Getting a nail stuck in my heel, hauling lumber in 100-degree weather, being forced to listen to Eminem and the Yin Yang twins, getting my back burned to a crisp...all of these things are there to make me wince when I look back on them. And yet *sigh* it's a living. And God help me it's a change from the intemellectual schmaltz I've been regurgitating all year. So I guess you could say I need the change.
*yawn* You could also probably say with a fair degree of accuracy that I need sleep. But old habits die hard. I find myself wandering around the house and realize I'm looking for the void where the Tali Lounge used to be. I even checked my pockets for my ID before coming inside today, before realizing where I was. *wistful sigh* Ah, college...

Those of you dedicated enough to be my readers may notice that this blog has a new look. Not only do I now have a Blogger Profile, I have also decided (against my better judgement) to install a Comments system, mainly due to the fact that the lack of a T1 line in my life means that I can't communicate as quickly or effectively as I used to be able to. That being said, I'm probably opening myself up for a lot of abuse. So I'm going to ask please, PLEASE, don't comment on the political blogs. If you must, you must--but I'd much rather talk in person. Internet debates are tiring and pointless and, worst of all, unfulfilling. At any rate--if you're someone I haven't been able to get in touch with, leave me a note. And, if you're a new reader (highly doubtful), thanks to my User Profile you can now get in touch with me.
So leave a comment and let's get this thing rolling!

He was glad to see me, though. *grin*

Yes, I'm home from William & Mary. No, there isn't really anything interesting to report. I have a boring home life--you'll understand that better by the end of the summer if you don't know it already. I live in the middle of freakin' nowhere. Literally. This is Nowhere County, and I live in Nothingsville. Some imprudent cartographer changed those names respectively to Buckingham and Axtell and I have a major bone to pick with him.
At any rate, the only major changes is that I'm down about 50 dormmates or so, no longer have access to women my age, and can't stay up late. Because, really, what is there to stay up for? Without a T1 line and alcohol there really isn't much worth taxing your nervous system over.
So, in conclusion, I'll probably post from time to time when exciting things like a planned trip to Norfolk to see Em, Rach, and Laura transpire. Other than that I'll be busy working with New Age Builders and sleeping. So the daily blogs will probably give way to bi-monthly blogs--at least till September.
So to my few readers (the parents probably won't tune in as much, now that I'm home--this was their way of keeping tabs on me) you'll have to keep in touch through AOL or email. Which will probably be vastly more informative anyways.

Will's Last Blog from Taliaferro 220

I've had a lot of time lately to think about how much Taliaferro has meant to me this year. As you could tell from my rambled musings, shout-outs, and various leaving-related song quotes posted lately, this has/is/will be hard for me. As I've told numerous people, it's the end of a stage, an epoch in my life--and those are always hard.
I came in, a lot of ways, a blank slate. Not necessarily in terms of who I was, but who I was ready to become. In the past week I've seen myself shift and morph in ways that I never thought possible. "I'm breaking through, I'm bending spoons, I'm leaving flowers in full bloom...I'm searching for answers from the Great Beyond," as Michael Stipe once sang. It's a weird feeling--the feeling of long-repressed energy and vitality come spilling out. Sometimes that vitality is, paradoxically, stifling--you feel like you're being crushed under the weight of too much change, too many growing pains. Right now I'd like to think I'm able to handle a lot, but the things I've seen have taught me only that there's so much, maybe too much, to be seen.
To look upon infinite is to look upon the face of God--and to look upon the face of God is to go mad, as far as I've been able to discern. So looking at one's life is a smaller part of that infinite, and looking at a decade, a year, of one's life is breaking that chunk of infinite down even smaller. But it's still enough to drive you half batty if you stare too long. So I think I'll turn in for my last night in Taliaferro Tower. Rest well, all--we have three more years to go through. Are we having fun yet? *grin*

Well I'm not the kind to live in the past
The years run too short and the days too fast
The things you lean on are the things that don't last
Well it's just now and then my line gets cast into these
Time passages
There's something back here that you left behind
Time passages
Buy me a ticket on the last train home tonight...

Hear the echoes and feel yourself starting to turn
Don't know why you should feel
That there's something to learn
It's just a game that you play...

-Al Stewart (yes, again, because he is the master of words and wisdom)

They're finally starting to leave, one by one. Yesterday saw J.P. and Dave off, and Belgium caught her flight home today. It's going to get harder--I'll be the last one here, since I'm leaving Friday. So I guess I'd better get used to it now. This week will test me like nothing else. I've heard there's nothing quite like a freshman hall--I've seen some upperclassman dorms, and they never seemed to have the bustle, the noise, the boisterousness of most freshman halls. Because, let's face it, freshman year is when everything is new and exciting. You're bound to bond in ways you never will again, for better or for worse. I love this place, and I'll never forget the crazy good times.

Go and tell Lord Grenville
That the tide is on the turn
It's time to haul the anchor up
And leave the land astern
We'll be gone before the dawn returns
Like voices on the wind...

Go and tell Lord Grenville
That our dreams have run aground
There's nothing here to keep us
In this shantytown
None of us are caring where we're bound
Like voices on the wind...

And come the day you'll hear them saying
"They're throwing it all away"
Nothing more to say
Just throwing it all away...

-Al Stewart

Wow...what a weekend.
First I went to Eric Anderson's 21st birthday party on Friday night, like I mentioned. (It was a joint celebration of his and Darcy Newsome's, who is in NKE, 21st birthday as well.) It had seemed like a good idea to let go this weekend, since it's the last weekend before exams end and I just felt like opening up to new experiences a little. So yes, I had some to drink. Overall I would say I was merely tipsy and not really drunk, but since it was my first time having that much in a social situation I don't really have a good gauge of the degree of my intoxication. At any rate, I spent the latter half of the evening, after cracking open a bottle of champagne with my friend Matt from Hunt, waltzing and semi-tangoing with a half-English bisexual girl who talks in a Sussex accent when she is inebriated. Naturally, this was quite a bit of fun. She's a great person and has promised to deliver a pizza to me sometime (she works for Domino's here in the 'Burg).
Then on Saturday I went to the Phi Mu Alpha "Morally Casual" party. That might have actually been more enjoyable than Friday night for several reasons. *grin* Didn't have as much to drink but I had a lot more fun. Go figure. ;-)
And today I took the Hellacious Orgo Test O' Doom. Please, PLEASE, don't ask me how I did. I have no idea. All I remember is answering "A" for most of the multiple guess questions. And I think I did okay on the spectroscopy. But since probably most of you neither know nor care what that means, and it's painful to me, the less said the better.
However, now I can begin the healing process (i.e., repairing the damage Orgo has done to my psyche). I think this can be accomplished through sleep, mainly. Though I'm feeling that post-exam high quite strongly...I hope I can get a nap in later on.

And now for something completely different--the last of the shout-outs.

-To Courtney: Thanks for always being there to give me advice and keep me cheerful. Have a good summer and keep having fun at HS-C...God knows those guys could use the company :-P
-To Mike: Fu** this game, man! Screw chicks! We gotta dance! F'real, right? *grin* Have a good summer, man.
-To Sarah Jo, a.k.a. "Creepy": You need to come down and visit Wysong and Amy and Liz Kimball and them sometime so we can hang out. I wanna see you get wasted.
-To Anna: Someone who laughs as much as I do! It's been a pleasure, m'dear. You picked a good one this time--don't let his goofy Semitic attitude fool you.
-To Joe: Yo, man, for real. For a guy with only two topics of conversation you've been an awesome dormmate. Hope I get to see you and Matt-san next semester.
-To Derek Power: Someone else who experiences the world in almost the same way I do! Sometimes I'm not sure if that's a good or a bad thing--at any rate, we'll no doubt find our way through. Good luck and don't let the bad times get you down..."This too shall pass."
-To Matt: Thanks for being possibly the funniest, goofiest, neatest guy I know. Ever since you started playing "Adventure Music" back at the beginning of the year I knew you had to be awesome. I was proved right.
-To Kathryn: I know you've had a rough time this year, hon, but you'll have a wonderful time at college. Don't sweat life--it'll work itself out sooner or later with or without your permission. Might as well have a good time. *hugs*
-To Yttri: I'm really never quite sure what to say to you. No matter what I say you'll still play tricks on me so: good luck with the Ph.D., please don't ever become a professor, and have a relatively harmless summer. :-P

If there has been anyone I omitted, I sincerely apologize. Lemme know and I'll put your name up here in lights. And now, I'm off to Eric Anderson's 21st birthday party. It's like the fun never ends!!

A statue stands in a shaded place
An angel girl with an upturned face
A name is written on a polished rock
A broken heart that the world forgot

Through the wind and the rain
She stands hard as a stone
In a world that she can't rise above
But her dreams give her wings
And she flies to a place where she's loved,
Concrete Angel...

Technically, this post should be for tomorrow--but seeing that I just took a test dealing with, among other things, Dissociative Identity Disorder, I figured it was fitting that I do it now.
One year ago tomorrow was Thursday, May 8th, 2003. I woke up to a disorganized househould. It seems that my sister's boyfriend had called our house, hysterical. She was unconscious and not responding to CPR, and he had already called the ambulance. My mom was in tears and my dad was grim-facedly getting both of them ready to go over to her house. However, I still had to go to school, so I got in my car and started driving.
I don't really remember what passed through my head on that drive--my sister had had numerous "incidents" before and managed to find her way through them. After 30 years of living with DID I guess she'd had to adapt to crazy situations. However, something changed when this song came on the radio. "You Were Meant For Me," by Jewel. I'd heard it a lot before and kind of liked it. But then it got to the refrain:

Dreams last so long
Even after you're gone...

I guess I knew at some level that this was one scrape Shelagh wasn't going to be able to get of in one piece. And sure enough, around 1:00 that afternoon, Dad and my brother Joe came to pick me up at Fuqua. She had been dead probably before her boyfriend had even made the call.
Before you think I'm making this into a sobfest, let me make one thing clear. I don't cry easily. I used to a lot in middle school, and through negative conditioning I learned to hold it in. I never cried for Shelagh at her funeral; I guess I was almost happy, in a way, that her pain was over. But I cried for her many times after, because, as my brother Jamie put it, "No one ever understood me like she did." There have been too many times this year when I felt like I needed to talk to someone and realized that that person was my sister. I know she can still hear me, but one-sided conversations just aren't the same.
But looking at all of this another way--I'm never going to let anyone, not myself nor anyone that I'm close to, go gently into that good night. If Shelagh could hold on and weather the storms, then so can we. One of her bad days would probably send most of us "normal" people into a depressive tailspin. She lived with demons, both internal and external, that are probably better left undescribed. And yet she kept on, till the age of 40, until, as Thomas Hardy said in Tess,
"'Justice' was done, and the President of the Immortals had ended his sport with [her]."
Nothing I could have done would have healed her pain. And indeed, not much any of us could have done would have accomplished much. We could only mend as many cracks as we could before the walls came crashing down. But I'll be damned if I let anyone I love fall victim to a pain like that. No-one will suffer like that on my watch as long as I have my strength.
So here's to Shelagh. If anyone deserves a happy afterlife, it's you.

So, so you think you can tell
Heaven from Hell? Blue skies from pain?
Can you tell a green field from a cold steel rail?
A smile from a veil? Do you think you can tell?

Did they get you to trade your heroes for ghosts?
Hot ashes for trees?
Hot air for a cool breeze?
Cold comfort for change?
Did you exchange a walk-on part in the world for a lead role in a cage?

How I wish, how I wish you were here
We're just two lost souls swimming in a fishbowl year after year
Running over the same old ground, what have we found? The same old fears,
Wish you were here...

Shout-outs for today (thanks to Belgium for reminding me):

-To Catherine, a.k.a. "C-Unit": You were the conscience of Taliaferro this entire year. I know we grossed you out at times--thanks for your patience and eternally sweet nature.
-To Danny, a.k.a. Princess: Um...I got nothin'. Seriously, dude, I'm going to miss your drunken rambles and offensively hilarious insights next year. Come and see me in Pleasants sometime.
-To Hank-san: It's gonna be awesome rooming with you next year! Because we are awesome! Let's get crunk up in this sh**!
-To Anne: I'm sorry we didn't get to spend too much time together this year--I know you were busy quite a bit of the time. Have a good summer and good luck next year--let's try to look each other up and hit up the Grind again sometime.
-To Allison, a.k.a "Li'Son": So much for you and Aitli coming down to visit me. Maybe I can come see you guys again next year. Keep setting things on fire--you'll light Jeff up one of these days, I'm sure. Eeeee!
-To Rachel: Many thanks for your advice and loyalty through the dark times this winter. I sincerely appreciate them and what you've done for me. Hope you and Em can come down and visit me again--maybe we WILL hit up the Trellis this time. *grin*
-To Ryan: You were one of the first people I met this year, and I've enjoyed knowing you the entire time. Have fun taking Orgo II this summer *sympathy wince* See you when we start having meetings again--and good luck with Pre-Med!
-To Danni: Crazy times in evening lab, my friend. Thanks for your sage, if somewhat wacky, advice, and your limitless store of disgusting jokes. You could be an honorary member of ATO--maybe even an honorary MALE member, if you tried hard enough.
-To Adam McCool: Fu** sh** up, man. Fu** sh** up.

Those of you who know me well know that I usually save my disdain for people who really deserve it. Sure, I talk trash about some people occasionally, but it's usually just to vent. And it never borders on mania. However, there is one who truly deserves every American's loathing, and that man is Ted Rall. I could give a dozen reasons why, however, somebody else has done a much better job of explaining it than I could. Go here if you feel like being filled with loathing. ("That's when we're happiest!") Anyway, I've gotten behind on my complaint posts quota. Thought we needed an update to balance out all the love from the Shout Outs. *grin*

Shout-outs for today:

-To Caitlin: What can I say, hon? You helped me through many a hard spot and urged me on through the times when I felt my resolve weakening and my strength failing me. All my wacky witticisms aside--I consider you one of my few good friends. *flying hug*
-To Em, a.k.a. "Bright Eyes:" I never realized how much I had in common with you until this year. It's a joy knowing you and getting to know you better--and I count myself lucky to be your friend. Please, don't ever change. And keep laughing...you know why. *grin* Let's hope that ferry ride happens this summer.
-To Belgium, a.k.a. Lauren: Don't forget, I was the one you kissed first :-P Really, though, Beljam, it's going to be dull without you around next year...good thing you're over in the Units so I can come over and bug you every now and then.
-To Cassie: I've never seen in you in a bad mood, and your sunniness will be sorely missed next year. I hope Hank and I can get over to see you, Joe, Matt and Jen over in Jeffer-son sometime.
-To Kara: "Mom" to us all! Please tell me you'll still be able to eat breakfast with your "kids" next year--and assure me that your new batch of freshies won't replace us.
-To Alicia: I wish I'd met you sooner--it's a pleasure to find a fellow nerd who hasn't joined Skiffy yet. Here's to geeks and all the geektastic things they stand for. Hope to see you next year!
-To Adam Block: I'm glad you got to come down and visit me at W & M--it was hella fun having you here and I hope you get to do it again. Thanks for talking to me all those times late at night on IM and trading stories of how women drive us stark raving mad.

This song seemed appropriate, considering the stuff I wrote yesterday about successful f**k-ups. I heard it a long time ago but I wasn't able to get my hands on the lyrics. Finally, Google came through (as usual) and I had the song downloaded in minutes. It's very beautiful and moving, and I wish I could put the music on here as well, but the lyrics will serve. I think everybody can relate to this...in one way or another. Enjoy!

GOING HOME by Mary Fahl

They say there’s a place
Where dreams have all gone
They never said where
But I think I know
It’s miles through the night, just over the dawn
On the road that will take me home.

I know in my bones
I’ve been here before
The ground feels the same
Though the land’s been torn
I’ve a long way to go, the stars tell me so
On this road that will take me home.

Love waits for me ‘round the bend
Leads me endlessly on
Surely sorrows shall find their end
And all our troubles will be gone
And I’ll know what I’ve lost and all that I’ve won
When the road finally takes me home.

And when I pass by
Don’t lead me astray
Don’t try to stop me
Don’t stand in my way
I’m bound for the hills where cool waters flow
On this road that will take me home.

Love waits for me ‘round the bend
Leads me endlessly on
Surely sorrows shall find their end
And all our troubles will be gone
And we’ll know what we've lost and all that we’ve won
When the road finally takes me home.

I’m going home...

Multivariable went very well, considering how much I was freaking. The only thing that really screwed me up was two problems dealing with line integrals of functions of two variables (yeah, yeah, I know). The rest--tangent planes, normal lines, vector equations, and double integrals--was for the most part, a piece of cake. I think I can expect a B/B+ in the class overall. Woohoo!
On to the Naming Game...

-To Sarah, a.k.a. Knocko McSchmance: Spunky since the first day and always fiesty as hell. I'm going to miss you a lot next year, Hot-Lips. Remember: you belong among the wildflowers...
-To Tyler: I can only say that I feel much better knowing that you are our Saviour. Continue to spread the word, my friend. "Carpe carpum."
-To Jack: You've always been able to make me laugh, both at you and at myself. Thanks for being a source of goofy humor when the world was too heavy on my shoulders.
-To Barrow: I'm glad I got to know you last semester--it's always good to find someone else as passionate about taking Gaelic as I am :-P Hope to see you in Whittenburg's class Spring 2005.
-To Dave: I'd say something complimentary and sappy on here, but you'd just make fun of me. So SCREW YOU BIYATCH! Really, though--you rock, D$. Don't have too much fun in Berryville this summer.
-To Mary Catherine: You're Tex's girlfriend--does that make you my Aunt? Seriously, thank you for the sage advice and the occasional brutal honesty...sometimes I need a good dose of reality to balance out the dreams and reveries.
-To Eric: I consider you to be my RA by default, and with good reason *raised eyebrows*. Thanks for being there for everyone in Taliaferro and not just your "designated" residents. You helped get me through some tough times with various dorm-related things *ahem* and I sincerely appreciate it.

Hey all...taking a quick break from Calc for dinner and blogging. I found that it works well to punctuate studying with conversation and maybe a little TV watching. I've found over the years that cramming doesn't work too well unless it's done in increments--and yes, sometimes you do need the entire day for it. 'Specially when you're like me and don't study period. (Not quite true, but still...)
Anyways...I thought a nice end-of-the-year feature on here would be to mention each and every person who I've met, become friends with, grown fonder of, or whatever the case may be over the course of this year. I figure if I do seven or eight a day (approximately) I should be able to get everybody.
In no particular order:

-To Andy "Idaho": Thanks for always being a goofy kid and struggling over Orgo homework together with me. Silverback!
-To Danny Wysong: What can I say? You're a great guy and I think the world of you--even when you are screaming at me about things political. Bring back a Russian love bride for me.
-To J.P.: Keep it real, biyatch! You rad rock, dude! I heart you a lot! *buh huh huh*
-To Tex: I've come to appreciate lately the pleasures of being part of the most dorktacular Phi Mu Alpha family. Good luck at whichever program you decide to take this summer.
-To Amy: I've known you for, what, five months? Yet you were calling me pet names like "bitch" and "whore" barely weeks after we first started talking on IM. I find that rather sassy. :-P
-To Eric Anderson: You and perhaps one or two other people in my life have kept me grounded in reality through this wacky damn year--so it's probably mostly thanks to you that I'm able to phrase a coherent sentence right now. Merci beaucoup, my friend. "Bitches crazy."
-To K, a.k.a. Arrowatch: You've known me "from the beginning" and we've only been talking for a month now. How crazy is that?? Best of luck to you, my friend--and try to stay sane with all those hippie pinko weirdoes around you in Cali.
(NOTE: I'm joking! JOKING!)
-To Ethan: Dude, you MADE the pledge process for me. I can't think of anyone else with whom I would have rather gone through it. "WE'RE FROM THE BAND LIMOZEEN!"

Reflections on the Year at large while avoiding studying Multivariable Calculus

Spike Milligan was an artilleryman during WWII, and after the evacuation of Dunkirk he had the chance to talk to a man who had survived the whole bloody mess. Upon Milligan's asking "What was it like?" the man replied "Like, son? It was a f**k-up, a highly successful f**k-up." Those of you who have been (un)fortunuate enough to talk to me late at night no doubt have found this phrase a recurring theme in my conversations. And indeed, upon retiring last night, I still found it interesting that I cannot comprehend myself having slogged my way through a year of college. The Rangers at Pointe-du-Hoc (for another war comparison) were forced to scale a 100-ft shale cliff, while under small arms fire from Germans at the top. Many of them (the ones who survived) tried to climb the ropes later, after the battle was over and they were given a chance to rest and recover. Not many of them were able to duplicate their frantic climb to the top.
I guess what I'm trying to say is, it's the crazy days that make us shine. And without the "f**k-up's" we wouldn't be able to quanitfy or qualify the measure of our own success. So here's to the craziest time of them all: College.
With that in mind, here's my schedule for next year. Subject to change with/without notice.


MONDAY/FRIDAY

Anthropology 201/9:00 am - 9:50 am [Intro to Archeology]
Chemistry 209/10:00 am - 10:50 am [Orgo II *bleh*]
Physics 101/11:00 am - 11:50 am [Intro to Physucks]

TUESDAY

Math 211/9:30 am - 10:50 am [Linear Algebra]
Chemistry 353/1:00 pm - 1:50 pm/2:00 pm - 4:50 pm [Orgo Lab]

WEDNESDAY

Anthropology 201/9:00 am - 9:50 am
Chemistry 209/10:00 am - 10:50 am
Physics 101/11:00 am - 11:50 am
Military Science 101/1:00 pm - 1:50 pm
Military Science 103 [Lab]/3:00 pm - 4:50 pm [These two should be hella cool]

THURSDAY

Math 211/9:30 am - 10:50 am
Physics 101P/1:00 pm - 1:50 pm [Physucks problem session]
Physics 101L/4:30 pm - 6:50 pm [Physucks Lab]

Nothing of note happened this weekend--to me at least. I'm sure many of the people who are now getting liver transplants could tell you some great stories. Sometimes I almost wish that I drank, even socially, just so I could see some of the stuff that goes on. But then I see some of the drunk people, or hear the tales told over brunch, with rueful faces and regretfully hung heads. 'Course, some people, like Charley, remain unrepentant and defiant in the morning, but they're the hard cases. The lightweights all look rather doleful in the morning--"I can't believe I did that" or "What was I thinking...?"
For the most part, the drinking seemed to be ceremonial. I know these people--most of them aren't alcoholics. The let's-drink-from-9 AM-on crowd was mainly doing it for symbolic reasons. Screwed-up, yes, but symbolic as well. I guess that's one way to usher in the summer...getting extremely hammered by 11 AM.
At any rate, I woke up late both Saturday and Sunday. My body has been catching up on sleep--I've been running it ragged all week and I guess things finally caught up with me. However, I want to get a good day of studying for Calc in tomorrow, so I'll probably try to get a decent (and reasonable) night's sleep in.
Wish me luck. M-Var is one of those things that I understand pretty intuitively--but if I don't review it, I am extremely hosed.