May 01, 2002 :: 10:35 p.m.
whack them gators
Uh, hi. I'm sitting in Adam's dorm room, waiting for him to get back from his floor meeting. Woo. I don't really have anything much to say, but I thought I'd write to pass the time. Why is it that when you want to prolong an experience, time inexplicably speeds up? If you're going through something horrid and unpleasant, it slows down to snail speed. It's entirely unfair and I think I may lobby a protest with the AMET (Association for the Management of Earth Time) to have things switched around. Grr.
This evening was the usual: Mama's for dinner (yummy broccoli roll goodness), Borders to drain me of all my money (two books and a CD), and various places in search of Resident Evil for Adam. We found it at the Colonial Park Mall, finally, and then we went to the arcade and played skee ball and air hockey and the "gator whackin'" game or whatever it's called. You know, the one where you hit the alligators when they pop out of their caves. Though I don't think alligators live in caves; nor would they allows two random teenagers to pound on their noses for fun. Oh well. Sucks to be a plastic gator.
All right. He's back. Ciao.
back & forth
Wait, there's more!
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