I am fleeing the country to dwell where "freedom" has become propaganda and it's stench is thick like fog.
I plan to watch my little bro play hockey tomorrow night (later tonight techincally) where I get to sit in the stands, surounded by "adults" who resemble drunken teenagers, and have them glare at me and mine when we cheer for the opposition.
It's still worth it. I'm proud of him more then he'll ever know.
From there, I shall be visiting one or more of the americans I can tollerate, and even like. Sebastian is one of thoes people. We shall be house sitting for two nights. I expect many stories of various kinds and a star chart reading that I've been waiting a year to recieve. I'm excited.
Then I have the read through for smf. The seven lines I have seem much less scary compared to the mass of information I had to remember for Rosencrantz and Guildenstern. Damn I miss that play. The prospects of being involved in another play make me giddy, though that might not be the only reason.
School starts on Tuesday. It's only a mildly frightening thought at this moment. When thursday hits me with it's full swing of textbook doom and 8 hours of straight class, I'll understand what I've managed to get myself into. I look forward to this semester like a man waiting to be electrocuted to death: "Just get it over with." With any luck, I'll be free from essay hell when all is said and done.
Oh and several things may be happening in the summer:
- going to halifax with andrew in june (and we will be back for tim's brithday heh)
- camp goodtimes during july somewhere
- shambala (sp?) when ever that is
- the bathazado for capoiera... i missed it last year but not this year
other then that i'm working... no classes shall i have to dig through which makes me happy.
It's time for bed. I have a long road trip ahead of me tomorrow. Talk to you from the land choking me with patriotism.