There's a Party Goin' Down Around Here

Since my last post, I have returned from that dreaded Roman capitol-mousetrap known as New York, at least for the time being. The trip back is always the longest and most arguous. Walking through the city with a bag packed with clothes is as bad, if not worse, than Jesus' carrying of a crucifix. But, I was happy to be home finally, because my parents had gone to Ireland for the week, and I had the house to myself. Needless to say, my daily activities involved making breakfast naked, reading naked, exercising naked, lounging about naked, walking the dog naked, and generally lounging naked.

But for the past 3 days, I've been in Vermont with my good friends Steven and Andy, and others from New Jersey, or as my roommate affectionately calls it, Jew Jersey. The trip has made me discover the truth that I have spent many years avoiding: that moths are God's chosen creatures. Their only goal in their short lives is to search about for a source of man-made light, and once they have accomplished this goal, they turn their attention to flitting about a bit and doing dances that make me laugh. Humans need television for their daily requirement of culture, but moths are content staring at a goddamn light. That's what I call purpose.

Last night, after returning from a trip to a swimming quarry, my group and I visited one of Vermont's fine book stores (in front of which was a stone upon which was printed, "Nothing is written in stone". Clever.) when I had the sudden urge for burgers. Yes, burgers. After much cajoling of my friends, we snuck out of the bookstore and got McDonald's, without letting the other members of our group know. Unfortunately, we didn't know that one girl was planning on making fajitas that night. So, we had two dinners, the likes of which collided in my stomach like two titans of ages past. But, it was a good trip anyway. Um..I guess that's all.