meditation, or, the man catcher, part 3

see, my problem is not a lack of something to say, but rather a lack of knowing how to say everything that i do have to say. i really do have a million and a half half-finished blogs that i could work on--or i could even pull a jonharmon and sell them off as-is, but most of them are not as funny as they appeared at the time (barring the rocket story that is not for mixed company), or are just a little bit too personal for cyberspace. plus the thought of living in the past with an endless stream of study abroad experiences crowding out the spectacular summer i'm demanding is not that appealing. it came, it's leaving, i grew, and i loved it. so while i will probably cook up one big, messy, sentimental, mush in my FIVE HOUR layover in houston, i plan to purge my system after that, with the exception of a few situational-appropriate reminisces as required.

that being said, i do have one thing to say. suprisingly, i found a man-catcher:

even more surprising, it worked:

but perhaps the most surprising thing is that i let him go.
yep. and i feel great!

except for finals, so if i get buried as the semester winds down, good luck to y'all and i'll see you on the flipside!

p.s. if you knew that i wrote this entire blog in lower case not in a tribute to e.e. cummings, but to accentuate my frustration in being able to establish texas citizenship on my way home, extra chocolate for you!