Beginning of the end...

"It's the beginning of the end of the last chapter of the second book," said Margaret last night, referring to our last first day of class as Taylor students. It's important to note that life goes on after college. In many ways, all of us are longing for that life-beyond, but I suppose we better make the best of our time while we're here.

A cat named Martin

A few nights ago, Cat and Sarah went for a walk around the loop. A little cat followed them for several laps and, of course, they fell in love. Cat named the cat Martin. We discussed leaving food out during the day, but nothing ever came of that.

Today, a few Cellar girls investigated a rumor that there were kittens in the boiler room. Sure enough, Martin is a mom. Although pets are forbidden in English Hall (unless the pet is a tropical fish), the staff said it would be okay to keep them around until they're weaned. Awwww.

I'd place a photo of a kitten here if I had my camera, but some Finnish exchange student is probably enjoying my Olympus right now. Drat.

"Toddmonster Elder... it just rolls off the tongue"

Well, my brother has officially been a Boilermaker for two weeks now. I just got back from a short visit to the 'Due to hang out with him. We had a lot of fun (Or at least I did. He said there are "more exciting things" than hanging out with me. That's fair.). Still, I get SO confused there. All the streets are one way, there are swarms of people everywhere and all the buildings look the same. It's enough to make me miss my simplistic loop of a campus.

It's so wild to hang out with my brother as adults. I mean, we've never really hated each other (we'd fight when we were younger, but in general we got along), but our bond goes way beyond tolerance or general friendship to genuine love and understanding. I think that in some senses, Nate is the only one who gets me because he is the only other person who grew up in my house and dealt with the stuff I went through. That is the glory of siblings. While other people can and will get to know me, Nate shares my genes as well as my upbringing and that says something powerful.

I am the Highway

What is it with southern Indiana farmers and large, fiber-glass fruits? I mean, the Big Peach has been there for ages, but on my most recent trip up 41, I noticed a rather large strawberry in a nearby field. Maybe it's been there forever and I just now noticed it. Figures.

Green Day's "Boulevard of Broken Dreams" played on the radio as I drove up alone with my stuff crammed in my ancient Taurus. How fitting.

I'm all moved into my "apartment." I still live in the dorm, but we have a bathroom, a kitchen, and our very own rape door. It's nice to be on the same floor as the laundry, but it's still a dorm.

Cat has season two of Batman the Animated Series on DVD. Wednesday night we watched "Cat Scratch Fever." Quality.

You've got mail.

Have you ever sat with your inbox open and compulsively hit the refresh button waiting for an email to come in?

No?

Oh. I have.

And we've reached an all-time low.

I wish my gag reflex were a little less sensitive. Or a little more sensitive. I can't decide.

However hard I try (which I admit isn't very hard), I can't seem to achieve any degree of normality. I feel like I've had a lobotomy or something... like a huge chunk of me has been lopped off. I'm through with talking to people. I'm just going in circles and people are sick of me right now. Maybe I'm just sick of me.

You'd think that after 21 years of experience, I'd be pretty decent at falling asleep. Not so. I lay in bed in the darkness and my mind and heart churn. Sleep eludes me.

It's pretty sad when the lyrics to a Kelly Clarkson song best define one's life. Oh well. "I can't breathe, no I can't sleep, I'm barely hangin' on."

Open-heart surgery

I feel like an amputee... only worse.

In other news, I spent more than four hours at Culvers last night. That's gotta be a record. (It was the first time I'd talked to my cousin in years. I don't LOVE Culvers or anything. It's not bad, but it's a tad pricy).

Also, some idiot called my cell phone twice this morning around 5 and asked for Nicole. Who's Nicole? Not me. Go back to sleep.

Have you ever confused a dream with life?

Stupid me. I thought time would heal all wounds. I couldn't have been more wrong.

Also, part of my left foot is numb. Is that a problem?