"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."


The Sound Flew in the Bare Room

In my 26.8 years, I have packed all my worldly possesions and moved them to another place 19 times. I'm about to make that 20.
My roommate is about to graduate, and I've had a few people step up and back out as roommates, and my house is horribly inconvenient to both schools, really. Plus, it's a damn hassle, paying bills and rent all the time. So, I'm doing what any other college student this side of 25 would do, I'm moving back to the dorms. The craft center dorms, which are more like little apartments, but student housing, nonetheless. The idea both excites and terrifies me, but I've learned those emotions frequently come as a package deal. I'm preparing myself for being stuffed into a double room with an 18 year-old (god knows it happened before), so if I get stuffed into a double room with one of my friends, it will be a pleasant surprise.
As such, I've begun the painful process of dorm-sizing my belongings. I was lying in bed earlier, as I've been doing for the majority of the last 7 weeks, and I got really upset at how much stuff I have. No, I rescind that, I got pissed. I'm tired of moving all this junk around. I'm a pack rat of the worst degree, convinced I'll need everything someday if I just hold onto it. No more. I'm showing very little mercy. I find myself in this mood very rarely, so I have to take advantage while I can. I can generate some seroius garbage and recycling in this state. Just a few hours ago, I threw away all my cd jewel cases. Every one I've collected since I got a cd player 9th grade. And I have a sizeable box with "McKay's" all over it. I'm very proud of me.
More importantly, I'm going through some of the boxes I haven't really opened since I moved back from Georgia, and some of what's in those I haven't looked at since I moved out of my mother's house. As such, I've found some hilarious stuff, like my diary from junior year, in which I am ashamed to admit I actually wrote my name with my boyfriend's last name. 9 years ago today, in fact. The same boyfriend I dumped not too long after for being a complete alcoholic.
I know, I know the irony. Hey, I was still a virgin then. Just so you know where my head was, another entry found me waxing poetic about the awesomeness that is ZIMA.
I also found some cds I forgot even existed. Raise your hand if you remember Sunscreem.
Hi Adam.

If you need me, I'll be in 1996, to the sound of '93.

Listening to: Sunscreem - Release Me

PS-I'll be seeing Harry Potter in Knoxville this weekend. Who's in and for when?