Champion of the Semicolon

After two and a half hours of frisbee, I now smell like grass. It reminds me of elementary school, not having homework, running around until exhaustion, soccer practice and mosquito bites.

Tomorrow is Foreign Language Day -- no class, just optional workshops on culture and such like. I'd go to one, but the only session that interests me (German hip-hop, taught by my awesome GTF) is at 9:15. That's when I normally get up, and without German class at 10, I can sleep even later. The sleep factor wins.

I caught myself narrating in my head today. Does anyone else do this? Kind of like... "It had occured to me that even though I didn't study, I kicked that test's ass. Funny how that works." Thinking in sentences that could be a journal or a book. Good sign? Incidentally, I did kick my German test's ass. And I didn't study.

It took me damn long enough, but I finally bought darkroom chemicals. I need to mix working solutions, but after I do that, the darkroom is my domain. My oyster. My BIATCH. Which reminds me of a funny picture. Here:



I love graffiti. Hip-hop biatch indeed.