I am so happy to be on vacation, it's grand, really. I've gotten 4 of my grades so far (out of 5) and I have all A's. Which is great for a neurotic perfectionist like me. I'd probably have slit my wrists had I gotten a single A-. Healthy, I know. I did the math and in the last two weeks I turned in over 70 pages of writing. And that's not even including you, dear diary.

Now that was weird, I started writing this about an hour ago and then got lost in sorting my MP3s and started reading Pride and Prejudice. And then I saw this window up and thought "goddammit lina you didn't finish the update." I suppose, of course, the reason I didn't finish my update is that I have nothing to say. I have gotten a lot done already this week, but I can't imagine it's anything that anyone really cares about. For example, last night I started to watch The Unbearable Lightness of Being and ended up turning it off after 10 minutes because they wouldn't stop DOING IT. So we watched Clerks instead, because the only coitus in that movie is with a dead guy. In other news, I went to the food bank today, and to an art show. Good times. So you see what I mean about having nothing interesting to say? No one has tried to hurl themself through my window lately, I haven't gotten any terribly interesting email lately, and I've been doing a lot of Christmas shopping. Am I boring now? What's happening to me? Today I was talking to Danny and he told me that the reason everyone thinks I am older than my age is because I dress like a stockbroker. And I was just like, "WTF." He tried valiantly to pry his hoof out of his grill, but only suceeded in saying, "Well, in a hip New York day trader sort of way." And that's my life, folks.