I have to go and get dressed for job interview now. Went running on the family-treadmill-that-no-one-uses this morning and now my bones are pudding; that's what my whole body and brain have been. Why do I have to be one of two distinct faces at any one time? It's either go go go or flatfish. I can't take the heat anymore, I can't eat spicy, as if it were a funny story you store up to tell. The man at Ogilvy said be engaged with people; straight-As equals not being engaged with people, who wants straight As anyway, I didn't dislike him when I was talking to him.

I wish we'd taken a picture of that Internet cafe, $5 for a half-hour, doughnut twists and Italians.

On-site DC

Hold me now, don't start shaking

On rereading Walt Whitman for tomorrow's exam, I like him. There's too much happening at once, papers and finals crammed tightly together so it's one tier after another, you can never stop climbing or breathing. I don't realize this is semester of roomies, Bernice "Whaddup homie" Ramirez, facebook status messages ("Neil is wishing people didn't talk so loudly about the Bible at Runk", "Kelly thinks all the girls would stop dressing like hoochies"), natural-affected arguing about race to go to Princeton, print skirts and pearl necklaces every Sunday, hammocks, sweaty walls and smoke, UTS-cool, film shorts and eyelashes, arrested students, the Chapel bus-stop, Googletalk, censored T-shirts, hospital etiquette, the homosexuality spectrum, spending 100+ PlusDollars on Domino's Pizza, talking, talking, talking, talking to smooth out creases and shadows.