(excerpt from a recently written email, in response to the question, "what have you been up to?")

i've recently done some calculations and figured out that if i add up all of the things i WANT to do with all the things i HAVE to do, cross multiply that sum by the time it takes to DO these things, factor in my fear of commitment, poor time-management skills, divide by the guilt attached to pleasing my family and carrying out the duties expected of me, then add in the distractions of romantic relationships, balance the equation with the responsibilities of being a good friend to many many people, and carry the one, the ANSWER looks like i will not be allowed to die until i'm 837 years old. sigh. then again, i was never really that good at math.

ah, well.


let that be a lesson to those who wish to inquire.
for the record, i'm actually an English major.

location: chicago? illinois? earth? mood: neurotic-y music: Califone, "When Leon Sphinx Moved into Town"