That was SO MUCH work for a dollar. Oh well, shit happens. I love cliches like I love the assistant at Mesa admin. Random thoughts and free writing are the lubricants for well-reasoned prose. Pain and angst seem to be my specialty. I suppose my second specialty (my minor). I'm not good at describing the events of the day, my day particularly. So let's try.

You know I would, but nothing happenned. Absolutely nothing. Why are so many things compared to the Nazis and/or Hitler? It's such a ill-founded analogy. Why did I say ill-founded? Is that even a word? Why am I asking questions? Why does my history teacher insist upon the Socratic method? It does not work. How do you know where one liberal art stops and the other begins? Why do I assume that others care about my thoughts/emotions while refusing to believe that others would read a 'laundry-list' of my activities? There's this thread on xoxohth.com discussing how girls always (almost) pay more attention to a guy if they find out he's going to/is in law school. Bitches. I need more friends. I need to stop eating and start reading and running and surfing and working out.

San Diego is so fucking awesome. I think I'll go a walk around Presido Hill tomorrow. Being eternally unhappy with one's existence has MASSIVE downsides, but there are some very real upsides.