See you in a week.

And I'm off. Onwards I'll tread towards camp. The march of death.

Now I know to most people camp is a piece of cake, fun even. Let's just say my past camp experiences were filled with memories I enjoy suppressing. That's putting it lightly. I promised myself for years I'd never go back. Not ever again. I'd lost too many friends in the previous years to even think about enduring the circus again.

Then my friends started to plead, my mom began to harp, and my courage was tested. So, here I am, packing away. I leave early Sunday morning for a week of house-building and Jesus-singing fun. Sorry, I'm only remotely aware of how pessimistic I'm coming off.

Monday I finally went to that writing group. I was the youngest there, which didn't exactly come off as a surprise. There was one older man there who let us read a piece of his that the New York Times was running in its next issue. To say the least, it was astounding. There wasn't an error in sight. Flawless articulation and a strong voice. The group proceeded to rip apart each other's work. It was like watching a puppy being run over, tragically mesmerizing.

I'm not quite sure if I'll be returning to re-watch the horror. These were genuinely talented people who were sucking the creativity out of each other, devouring it like the first meal they'd had in days.

On a happier note, I'm making my older sister a CD tomorrow. I'll throw in a tad of rap to humor her, but the rest will be purely awesome. Marilyn's a musical genius, so she should have no problem helping me out. When I told Melissa of my plans she started laughing and said, "Hah, sure. Go ahead." Wait till she hears it. Her ears will practically explode!


Random thought of the day-
Paramore's new single is pretty awesome. Once a bamf, always a bamf. Oh, and I need to see Rent again.

Random conversation of the day-
Me-What time are we waking up tomorrow?
Friend-Too early for you.
Me-Ugh. What time?
Friend-Nine.
Me-Ew. Are you trying to kill me?