Tune: I Hope You Dance – Leann Womack
Schmood: Sadpy

So, we got back from our last PUSO board retreat… and it was a whole lot of fun… a whole lot. This is, of course, not taking into consideration the lack of sleep, getting my butt

kicked in the Midway games… boo, and the nosebleeds.  Ever just pick the wrong booger and then you’re like… aw crap.  I got the spiked one.  Yeah… that’s bad. I don’t really mind the lack of sleep though.  That’s just part of the whole experience. Besides, I was spending the time with a bunch of people that I love being around.

You know there’s one negative to this whole PUSO board thing… I’m slowly evolving into this blubbering, incoherent, sack of emotion. You know all this mention of it being our last retreat and talking about elections already and everything… it got to me.  Then all the presentations came… geez.  Such sad, but also happy songs… kinda like sweet and sour pork… And then we played the touch game…  at that point, it’s like, even if I tried to hold back emotions, it’s not like it woulda helped!  It was like trying to hold back Niagra falls with my golf umbrella. Whoever was moderating… I forget who it was, but they go…”Touch someone that you will miss.”  And I was like,”NOOOOOOOOOO!!” Hehehe… I know I’m a nerd.  Yeah…

I didn’t get to gamble too much though, even though we were in vegas, but… that may have been a good thing… well, yeah it was a good thing for sure.  I’m horrible at it.  I’ve got the worst luck ever when it comes to that.  Eh… maybe I’ll magically develop some kind of sixth sense someday.  Wouldn’t that be nice?  Then I could pay off all these God-forsaken credit card bills.  That and I could buy a new radiator for my car… that would be nice.

We did get to eat at a couple of buffets though.  They weren’t the really nice ones or anything though. Boardwalk and Excalibur.  But sheeze… I’m not sure if my stomach would have been able to handle Aladdin or Mandalay or something.  I might have exploded.  That woulda sucked… woulda lost our deposit for the room.

So we’re on our way back on the 15, and we get stuck in traffic for like an hour or something, going 5 miles an hour.  And of course, it’s cuz of all these mutha effin lookie-loos/rubberneckers, whatever you wanna call em.  Morons. So we killed time by telling

riddles… and jokes.  I told one that was almost funny.  Yup… give me another year or two and I’ll be able to do standup… in a room full of narcosiflated people.

I’m tempted to make another round of Board CD’s for everyone… but I think I’m running out of CD-R’s.  Good thing financial aid came in.  Yay.

They make me happy… but now there’s this prevailing cloak of sadness draped over my shoulders.  And it just gets tighter… counting down the days.

So I heard from my friend who had the surgery last week.  (sorry have come up with a code name yet.) I’m quite relieved to hear that things turned out ok.  At least ok as far as she’s told me.  Hopefully I’ll get the whole story when she comes back… aww… I miss her too.  She’ll be back soon enough… Get Well!!! Aww… Ecko Pointe… another happy/sad thing to deal with next quarter… Gosh I’m gonna spontaneously combust.

Geez… I’m such a Rent whore… Well, this is quite an operation!  One song glory, before I go!  Yeah it’s confirmed… the state of whore-hood is affirmative.

I want a new hard drive.

Why does it feel so late? It’s only 8:35p.  I’m hungry… maybe I’ll go kill a pigeon.  Not really.

I feel like writing a song.

Hoozle.