"I take as metaphysical poetry that in which was is ordinarily apprehensible only by thought is brought within the grasp of feeling, or that which was is ordinarily only felt is transformed into thought without ceasing to be feeling."
-T. S. Eliot

I wish I were a metaphysical poet. I could spend my time contemplating nothing and call it a hard days work, but I'm too distractable. Even now, in professing this to you, I have been distracted by apple pie, roommates, and Hearts. Admittedly, if I could get back time spent in the pursuit of any mundane activity, I would take back my time spent playing computer/video games. It doesn't amount to much, but enough to bring shame to my family. May my ancestors forgive me.

Side note: In geology class I overheard the teacher mentioning Pater Noster and I immediately stopped correcting my paper for another class, wondering "what in tarnation my teacher was playing at, teaching the Our Father." Turns out that Patternoster is a sequence of lakes that is formed when glaciers receed. Pater Noster, on the other hand, is Latin for Our Father. I chuckled, coughed, and went back to my George Herbert paper.

All things aside this is the craziest finals week I've encountered, but I don't really mind. I have good friends to eat with me, laugh at me, and pretend for five minutes that the 20 page paper due the next day is as a snowflake, that when accumulated, builds into a mass of monsterous proportions that one must run from. I love my friends

Quotes of the Day:

"And we all know Byron is burning with all the fire and damnation... He's probably still arguing with God about it."

"So I saw a musinex comercial today and I thought of you."

"I wish for those ghetto booties..."