This has been a decidedly upsetting day, aside from the driving, which was a nice up-side. I was a bit worried about the driving since I got back, just thinking that I was rather rusty, and that there was too much going on what with all that traffic stuff, and Other Cars on the road and mean Michigan drivers and all, but now I remember: I really really like driving. It's good think time. I put the music on and tune into the road, and then my head just starts up.

Grandparents. I'm not sure I'm gonna make it through this 5 day stretch, I'm really not. There's been a noticeable rise in the quantity of dead and dying friends and relations to talk about, and the overall decrepitness-factor. And my Grandma, well you know she's Grandma. They're living in this grey hazy land on the cusp of death, and watching it makes me feel like a voyeuristic turnip. Is this what it's like to be a vulture? They have such an intimate relationship with death; to my young prudish ears it seems obscene.

And then a lovely conversation with my parents about money and my academic future, wherein they tried with all their great parently wisdom to assure me of what a sparkling future I have and etc. But it all fell flat. I guess I've actually reached my limit of being told I'm brilliant. I wanna see some proof already. I must be on the edge of an existential crisis. I mean, I've been telling people my name is "Betty" for the past ten months. Do you have any idea what that does to a person? It's worse than Moonpie and bowling alleys, because at least I thought That was cute at the time.

If I believed in god, I could blame my stinky feet on him. The fucker.

two-penny wisdom of the week: Believing in god is the easy way out not because its easy to believe, but because you get something in return for your effort.

such as someone to blame my stinky feet on.

I'm beginning to feel that I should have just gotten certified as an auto

mechanic at LCC.