"But ah'm not afraid of dyin'. Cause I know that when I get to heaven there are gonna be these wonderful trees, and ah'm gonna climb them. But you know what? Instead of leaves and flowers, those trees are gonna have fried eggs, and delicious Virginia ham, and big heaping bowls of biscuits and sausage gravy. And one day, Sammy, you're gonna meet me there, and we're gonna climb those breakfast trees together, and it's gonna be delicious and we're gonna be happy until the end of time."


Rose Like Rockets to the Moon

Exercise in posting for the sake of posting. Here we go.
Next week is the last week of classes for us, then finals, then I'm working for my professor for a week pulling cane and pouring castings. That appears to put me speeding back toward Oak Ridge 'round Christmas Eve-ning. I get the feeling the time between now and then will be one massive blur.
Thanksgiving was a worthwhile procrastinatory event to say the least. These are a few of my favorite things:
* Anna and Randy can somehow host a party of measurable size without technically inviting anyone.
* I have seven siblings between the ages of 18 and 27. And three more on top of that. Yes, Randy, you count as a sibling. Cope.
* I have 6 nieces and nephews under the age of six.
* 2 Mothers, 2 Fathers, 2 Turkeys. And a ham.
* Chad and his jacuzzi.
* The Graduate.

On another note, my mind has been so consumed and fragmented as of late that my subconcious has been taking the train through my dreams and disembarking in dusty corners of my concious mind. Where my dreams usually require a bit of decoding, this recent variety is about as subtle and metaphorical as a sledgehammer to the skull.

Jesse says I should read Preacher, and I wholeheartedly concur. If someone could make that happen I'd be forever in her debt. ;)

Post accomplished, this site will self-destruct in 5 seconds.