one down

and one to go.

good weekend.

fallacious

i dont know what this weekend seem so bad. when i look back on it, nothing that bad really happened.

guess it just put me in the most idiosyncratic mood

"Woke this morning and it seemed to me
That every night turns out to be
A little bit more like Bukowski
And yeah, I know he's a pretty good read
But God, who'd want to be
God, who'd want to be such an asshole?
God, who'd want to be
God, who'd want to be such an asshole?

~

Evil home stereo
What good songs do you know?
Evil me, oh yeah, I know
What good curves can you throw?"

loved this shit since 6th grade. now thats commitment

dude, wheres my canoe?

having being led to believe that there was a hole in our water-vessel, ben and i put off going back out onto the river. soon we sacked up and brought it up to the house, tested for leaks, realized we'd been duped, and packed up for the night ahead. bundled up, oars in hand, and a ready spirit, we carried the canoe back down and departed with about 20 minutes to spare until sundown. we cruised upstream for a bit until we came up to an unusually fast section (cause by the lowered water level). accepting the challenge, we paddle as hard as we could, making little progress at a time. eventually we conquered the water and kept on our sojourn north.

we both had the destination in mind and knew that it was getting closer. once we arrived, we kicked it on the beach while skipping rocks and picking each others brains. after taking note of the very uncommon echo caused by hitting the side of the canoe, we packed up our stuff, and prepared to let the current take us back home. for those of you who dont know, last night was a full moon, probably the last full moon that wont be unbearably cold to canoe during until spring. it lit up the whole river, every rock, stick, and shore.

when we reached the end of our journey, we stepped out of the canoe and prepared to bring it back home. it's very apparent to us that we aren't experiencing what most freshman get to: night canoeing, our own crib, a little slice of humbolt, and no fucking RAs. man, i love this.

(not my dog, canoe, or river)

how come we reach to this fork in the road

and yet it cuts like a knife!

destinations

my webbing fell out. weekend with the wench. should be a splendiferous experience. im just glad i charged my ipod...