I hope someone is taping Smallville for me. I'm reading that i'm missing all the best episodes (and that Lana misses me). Oh, and someone please tape the Super Bowl!!! I might venture out to a pub and try to watch it but i doubt i can find it anywhere. Woe is me.

As reviewed by the prestigious theweblogreview.com:



"Yellow Brick Road does not carry a yellow colour scheme. It does not mention Dorothy (though the writers are called 'The Wizard' and 'Tin Man'), and there is certainly no mention of any Elton John music. The design of the site is, frankly, poor. A lot of the download time is taken up a a pretty rubbish graphic on the side of the page, and instead of any internal navigation to speak of (archives, about, contact) there are only links off-site and a long, long series of posts dating back to the year 2000.



But the site redeems itself. It's strange, and unexpected; if I wasn't reviewing this site then I would leave it immediately without reading anything simply because the design is so uninspiring. It redeems itself by being different. There are two writers, and for every post they carry a conversation, each taking a different viewpoint, carrying a different opinion. It works very well (not always, but more often than not). The site would score higher if it was more a site and less a page; the design needs work but thankfully the content is just right."

posted by The Wizard





Dude, we got trashed. No, YOU got trashed. "The design of the site is, frankly, poor" and the "pretty rubbish graphic" HaHaHa!!!

posted by Tin Man



But they lauded the writing..said it "worked very well" and that the "content is just right."

posted by The Wizard



Laud is a bit of an overstatement and they were only drawn in by the gimmick. If only they knew how gimmicky this whole thing was. Sheesh. I'd say this was a fabulous review under the circumstances.

posted by Tin Man



I don't want to pander to the masses or anything but the way is now clear. The light shineth. I will go to the top! The revolution begins anew!

Life today has been a bore fest of online surfing. I should be pro-active and go attend to customers and ask them what "do you look for in a flute" but i really can't be bothered. This one flute player was supposed to come in to try out a gold flute (probably around $25,000) and she is apparently a lap dancer to boot. And drop dead gorgeous. She studies flute at the Birmingham Institute but lap dances to pay her way. Nice dichotomy right? Anyhow, she's here now, she's not drop dead gorgeous so i guess the highlight of my day is no longer.



Wilmot Girls is perhaps up and running again, perhaps for longer than a week this time. They're also featured by their hosting company which is way cool. funKtion has some new pictures which i was delighted to see: particularly this one (look at Heather and PZ!). I also found YellowBrickRoad reviewed by theweblogreview.com. It was pretty scathing but it pretty much made my day (in lieu of hot stripper fluotists). Oh the joys of the net.

So I’m reading the Bible…

posted by The Wizard



Ok, for why?

posted by Tin Man



I dunno, just to read over some of it again…

posted by The Wizard



How is it?

posted by Tin Man



Long…

posted by The Wizard



Any thoughts?

posted by Tin Man



Yeah, it kind of makes me angry.

posted by The Wizard



I don’t think that’s supposed to happen.

posted by Tin Man



Not generally, no. I’m working on it though. It’s much different reading it now than four, five years ago.

posted by The Wizard



How so?

posted by Tin Man



It’s been four, five years.

posted by The Wizard



Brilliant.

posted by Tin Man



Is skepticism a religion?

posted by The Wizard



Yeah, it's called science.

Watched this show on TV yesterday called “Trading Faces.” The premise of it is basically a white guy and a black guy get made up to become the opposite race. They painted the white guy (who looked more Indian than black but was strangely much better looking as a darker skinned guy) black and gave the black guy a rubber make-up job to become white. It was interesting to see them walking around London and trying out some things that were stereotypically more one ethnicity or another. The white guy went to a black poetry spot, a black club, a dinner party with mainly black friends. The black guy went to the greyhound races, marched in some sort of a Neo-Nazi thing (which was weird) and went to a boxing match. What was interesting wasn’t necessarily the reactions they got from people but rather the perceptions of what they thought it was like to be white/black. They both expected pretty drastic reactions or to feel really different but instead found themselves kind of transported into normality, albeit as a different color. The white guy kind of took a great liking to the rich culture of being black and the black guy was very surprised at how nice white people were. I’m not explaining the program very well or it’s content but it was a cool thing to watch. The only thing was, the black guy had too much rhythm (he had to dance on stage during some comedy show) and he definitely didn’t walk like an “old white guy.” It was really strange to me, excuse me for sounding super stereotypical, but I kept on thinking, “he may be painted up white but he walks, talks, moves black.” And vice versa. I’m not sure if it’s a bad or good thing that in my mind I think these things.



Also, it’s been weird to be in a place where everyone is white and not just white but in my mind, “very” white. Of course there are lots of minorities here (more now that I’m in London) but I think in general I get kind of a Mid-Westerny kind of feel out here in England. One of the flute technician’s here is half black and half white and she was saying that in the beginning when she first moved here from Venezuela, she felt very out of place because it seemed like people didn’t really care or ask about her background excepting for what she did in England. It was like a whole part of her was not appreciated or acknowledged. She was an anthropology student in Venezuela and is deeply interested in the social dynamics of blacks and whites and I asked her to compare how America, England and Venezuela was like in that regard. She said mainly that in Venezuela, discrimination isn’t along racial lines but more along social lines. It’s interesting to me that England and America basically experience the same types of racial environments (which makes sense historically I suppose). Ok, I’m on crack, I have no idea what point I was trying to make. Anyhow, the feeling that I get here in England (especially outside London) is strange when I stop to really think about it. But it is cool to get a small glimpse of the racial climates of other countries and to think about the differences.

Watched Vanilla Sky yesterday with Becca and her friends (and i drove all the way there and back too *clap*clap*). So basically yesterday was the most exciting day i've had here in three weeks. It was the strangest feeling to be sitting in a huge multiplex surrounded not by fields and grass by an actual asphault parking lot. I felt like i was at home, with everyone else just watching a movie. I had to shake that feeling driving home but i couldn't and for like an hour i just kept on thinking, "Whoa...i'm in San Diego". Ha. English guys definitely have a look....weak chins? I dunno what it is. The girls look the same though. Teenagers look the same too, all trying to look older than they are and cooler than they are. Big pants everywhere. Plus i was the only non-white person for miles i'm sure. Strangeness. But the movie wasn't as bad as i feared and it was actually decently good.



I was supposed to go out this past Friday for a friendly tour of the bars but my co-worker's mate starting taking anti-biotics so we postponed it till a later date. Truth to tell, i could really care less about going out at all but we'll see what happens.



I'm off to London for the next week, to learn about the retail side of the business. A one hour commute each way and a short ride on the Tuuuube. Joy. I shoulda brought my I-Zone but i bought a disposable camera so that i'll at least have some photographic evidence of my visit here.

"In the years just after college my friends and I assumed we were living a brief transition period between the families that brought us into the world and the families that we expected to start for ourselves. We picked hip, low-rent neighborhoods in exciting cities as transfer points, where, after getting off the college bus, we waited for the marriage train to arrive. After five years passed we settled in a little. We bought new couches and painted our apartments. Now that more than a decade has gone by, we’ve begun to wonder, what’s the holdup?"



That's the beginning of a train of thought about the way young people now live their lives. Journalist Ethan Watters identifies and defines the term "Urban Tribes" on his website and i read his article on the NYTimes and found it to be quite poignant and interesting and maybe...fearfully...gloriously...applicable?

Brit-onics (aka Rebecc-onics)

with apologies to Big L, RIP



Yo, pay attention

And listen real closely how I break this British down



Guys are blokes fags are smokes

Weed is sometimes called dope

Your family’s your folks

Your friends are your mates

Your old man is your da

Your mother might say “ta”



When you’re drunk you’re pissed

You might miss who you kissed

When you pulled you hooked up

When you shagged, well…….you know



French fries are chips, chips are crisps

A biscuit’s a cookie and talking back is cheeky

The food you eat is gorgeous

You’re a beauty if you serve it quickly

Eat too much and you’re a pie

To fancy a girl is to give her the eye



If you look good you’re fit

The same for fine and divine

If someone says you’re a minger

You just got called fucking ugly

She’s a village bike if she’s been around

She’s a slapper so you can have her

A tart and a strumpet are much the same

Alike in actions different only in name



The Tube is the Metro

Gas is called petrol

Pence is your cents

You sound stupid, you’re dense

Your quids are your bucks

Lorries are trucks

A Phat Piss Up’s for drunks



Legging it from the pigs

Is running from the cops

A truncheon’s for police

To protect the streets

They can only hit your buns

Cuz they carry no guns



Fourteen pounds is a stone

Sixteen is when you marry and cease being alone

At seventeen you drive

but be careful

You’ve probably been drinking since age five



If I haven’t seen you in yonks

I haven’t seen you in years

If I meet you in a fortnight

Meet me in two weeks to be right

A torch is a hand light

A ruck is a rugby fight

BBC is on the telly

You send pages from the celly

If it rains bring a brolly

Go shopping with a trolley



The hood and the trunk

Is the bonnet and boot

Your car’s in the park

In the mornings won’t start

A pints for beers

“Thank you” is cheers

A pub is a bar

Wear a suit to look smart

Gingham hair is a start

On the way to Becca’s heart

A diaper’s a nappy

A smashing good time

Is to be happy



Football is soccer

And sports are more proper

AH-di-das is Adidas

Steal the cricket wicket

And I would say you nicked it

Get caught and you’re nothing but a fuckwit

Chavs pinch your bags

The bathroom’s the waz

Pikeys are manky and grimey

Dodgy and sharking is quite slimy



Bloody hell, I forgot that to flog is to sell

And the dustbin is what you put the trash in



Color with a “U”, Tire with a “Y”

“Z” is zed and a flat’s got your bed

Horrible is howible

And terrible is tewible

Sub your “Rs” with your “Ws”

And you got nothing left to lose

Revise to stay wise

Learn the language

Hypnotize



I know you like the way I’m freakin’ it

I talk with slang and I’ma never stop speakin’ it

Objection overruled, or You can always go to law school if things don’t work out



He says the problem with teachers is, “What’s a kid going to learn

from someone who decided his best option in life was to become a teacher?”

He reminds the other dinner guests that it’s true what they say about teachers:

Those who can, do; those who can’t, teach.



I decide to bite my tongue instead of his

and resist the temptation to remind the dinner guests

that it’s also true what they say about lawyers.



Because we’re eating, after all, and this is polite company.



“I mean, you’re a teacher, Taylor,” he says.

“Be honest. What do you make?”



And I wish he hadn’t done that

(asked me to be honest)

because, you see, I have a policy

about honesty and ass-kicking:

if you ask for it, I have to let you have it.



You want to know what I make?



I make kids work harder than they ever thought they could.

I can make a C+ feel like a Congressional medal of honor

and an A- feel like a slap in the face.

How dare you waste my time with anything less than your very best.



I make kids sit through 40 minutes of study hall

in absolute silence. No, you may not work in groups.

No, you may not ask a question.

Why won’t I let you get a drink of water?

Because you’re not thirsty, you’re bored, that’s why.



I make parents tremble in fear when I call home:

I hope I haven’t called at a bad time,

I just wanted to talk to you about something Billy said today.

Billy said, “Leave the kid alone. I still cry sometimes, don’t you?”

And it was the noblest act of courage I have ever seen.



I make parents see their children for who they are

and what they can be.



You want to know what I make?



I make kids wonder,

I make them question.

I make them criticize.

I make them apologize and mean it.

I make them write.

I make them read, read, read.

I make them spell definitely beautiful, definitely beautiful, definitely beautiful

over and over and over again until they will never misspell

either one of those words again.

I make them show all their work in math.

And hide it on their final drafts in English.

I make them understand that if you got this (brains)

then you follow this (heart) and if someone ever tries to judge you

by what you make, you give them this (the finger).



Let me break it down for you, so you know what I say is true:

I make a goddamn difference! What about you?

-taylor mali-

Travel is fun...you get to experience and do things you've never done before. You know, like taking a breathalyzer test. Last night I take a wrong turn on the way home and i think, "I don't want to get lost, let's just turn here." Beautifully executed, I three-point turn with aplomb, reversing and forwarding like i was born to do this. Sadly, the car coming up was an English keeper of the peace so i was made to pull over. In my excitement at this fortuitous course of events, i pulled over to the right side of the road. Party foul.



I'm thinking that i'm a dead man for sure. Instead, the officers come over, look over my car and nicely converse with me as i stand outside trying to sound as American as possible. After telling me that he didn't want me to kill myself he decided to let me go because i seemed like "a good bloke with his head on." They did make me take a breathalyzer though and i was freaked out for a second that maybe it would come out positive and completely ruin my life. Cops are fun. Yay.

Yeah, England loves me. On Friday, the one day i've been anywhere but at home or at work, my car got broken into and my computer bag taken (sans computer). We were at a restaurant (kind of like a nicer TGIFs) for a co-worker's birthday and then i drove home thinking the rear window was down. Instead, i realized upon arrival that there was no rear window (i drive kind of a two door station wagon/ hatchback). The hooligans took the whole window off, rubber and all. I didn't even realize they took my bag until it started raining and i was removing everything out of the car. Yeah, did i mention it started raining? And so Trevor went off to look for the bag and the glass and i taped up the hole with a trash bag. I got to talk to the local cop though on the phone and it was weird because the officer i talked to was exactly one month younger than me (that means he's exactly one year younger than you too George!) and his family is in California and he used to live in Michigan and New York but is now in England (but he's going to visit NYC this Friday). Hum......



Anyhow, i no longer have any desire to go anywhere and even though there wasn't much in my bag, i did lose my favorite scarf and my white beenie. Not to mention the bag itself. Now my laptop will be naked and defenseless. It's almost embarassing. All this time in New York and nothing bad happens and within two weeks in the middle of nowhere and i already got hooliganized. Dirty country.

I feel so restrained having to be polite and nice all the time. It's been such a given that i can just be however i want in any situation. Now that i'm here, away from everyone, representing myself as a businessman (sort of) i feel fake. I'm extra polite, i try to smile all the time, my speech patterns go into a whole different mode and i have to watch my actions. In effect, i feel incredibly boring and withheld.

posted by The Wizard



You are boring. The difference is now that you are boring without any character. Your pants are tapered, your earrings are gone, your smile looks ridiculous....

posted by Tin Man



I hate this. I haven't been able to talk normally in two weeks. Is this how it feels to be working? To be hanging out with older people all the time and try not to offend them? This sucks. Then again, some of these "older" people are incredibly immature. They still throw stuff all over the place, make fun of each other...all that stuff. So maybe there's hope yet.

posted by The Wizard



Maybe you should just let go and stop pretending to be mature.

posted by Tin Man



I can't. I have to be collected and calm and use proper grammar. I can't let them know that inside all i want to be doing is as little as possible.

posted by The Wizard



So basically you want to be doing what you've done your whole life?

posted by Tin Man



Yeah, basically.

It's coming to the end of two weeks here. I can drive now. I tool around in my little ghetto Escort, trying to stay in my lane and hoping to death that i don't stall. The voltage is too high and my shaver makes this horrible buzzing noise so that i'm contemplating starting to grow my hair back right now. But that's gonna be an ugly process so i'll see what happens.



My computer has 8MB of RAM and sitting there waiting for it is the most insane thing in the world. On the flip side, i eat three meals a day, sleep a good 8 hours a day and actually get up at a decent hour for the first time since high school.



I've learned some teenage slang...."wazz" is akin to bathroom and the corresponding word for "wack" might be "ming"....i don't actually know how to use that but i'm assured that it can be plugged in for any situation. "Uh, that's so ming!" "Mingers!" Try it. Tell me how you get on.



Listening to the radio here, they have these mini quizzes and they ask what everyone's hobbies are. Pretty much you can be assured that anyone who answers says something like this: "I like walks in the country, i like dogs, i like gardening, go {insert English soccer team}!!!" Lotta variety these people.



I feel like Walt Whitman (i meant Henry David Thoreau) at Walden.

I'm reminded again of how good the McDonald's in Europe is. They have the fried apple pies which are worlds better than the wimpy baked ones we get in the US. The filet-o-fishes and the chicken patties are so much fresher and crispier. The buns actually have some plushiness to them. McDonald's food is probably the one thing i would prefer in Europe over anything in the US. Then again, i knew that after 28 days trapezing around the continent last time.



Had my first official manual driving lesson today. I didn't stall, grind, or break anything. I was quite good actually. I have to think way too much but it wasn't horrible. I'm not comfortable at all yet but i think maybe i can get there with some practice. I think all those times playing Gran Turismo helped. Ha. Actually, i had an unofficial lesson on Saturday with Trevor and i pretty much killed his Saab. But now i'm not so bad. Listen up James and Vic, i want your cars next. If you let Conehead and Anna drive i better get a turn.



Anyhow, at work i'm pretty much bored as hell. I look at flutes all day and try to physically give them the once over. After 25 or so i'm going outta my mind. I think i'm gonna have to be a bit more proactive and demand some more challenging tasks. The workshop is really busy though so nobody really has much time to spend tutoring me. Adding to the boredom is the music that is played. They have one channel that plays some popular stuff but generally the radio is set on this older channel, kind of like adult pop stuff from the 80s or something. It is killer. I can't use my walkman either b/c my batteries will die too fast. Boy, i complain like a b£$!&.

“Self Reliance”



“I appeal from your customs. I must be myself. I cannot break myself any longer for you. If you can love me for what i am, we shall be the happier. If you cannot, i will still seek to deserve that you should. I will not hide my tastes or aversions. I will so trust that what is deep is holy, that i will do strongly before the sun and moon whatever only rejoices me and the heart appoints. If you are noble, i will love you; if you are not, i will not hurt you and myself by hypocritical attentions. If you are true, but not in the same truth with me, cleave to your companions; i will seek my own. I do this not selfishly but humbly and truly. It is alike your interest, and mine, and all men’s, however long we have dwelt in lies, to live in truth. Does this sound harsh to-day? You will soon love what is dictated by your nature as well as mine, and if we follow the truth it will bring us out safe at last. --But so may you give these friends pain. Yes, i cannot sell my liberty and my power, to save their sensibility. Besides, all persons have their moments of reason, when they look out into the region of absolute truth; then will they justify me and do the same thing.”

-Ralph Waldo Emerson-

This is a really weird time because while it's incredibly boring and repetitive in England, at the same time i'm getting fed with so much information concerning the business that i get really really excited about it. I see the problems, the successes, the potential, the failures....and in my mind i think that i'm capable of helping with all of those. It's weird because in a sense i feel that this is my destiny and that all i have done in life has helped to build me into THE person to plug into the situation. But then i hesitate because i wonder if i want life to be like this. About flutes. In a way it's this grand chance to make a difference and to cut through all the usual BS you have to go through when you're young and powerless but by taking the reins of that responsibility, you also have to commit your life. Millions of people would scream and maim and kill for an opportunity such as i have and i have this incredible irresponsible luxury to consider whether or not i want it. I sit here and swing back and forth and surge up and down with my excitement, but then i settle down and think about wouldn't i rather have a job in sunny California? Struggling and slumming it to find my own way?

I'm in England now. I got here a few days ago and it's been very relaxing. Emphasis on relaxing because all i do is sit and read and drink coffee. Today is my first day at work and i haven't done much but a plan is being put together for me so i think i'll be doing quite a bit of work in the workshops and traveling around with some sales people. I've been sleeping at 11pm and waking up at around 7am and that schedule will continue for the next six weeks. Craziness. Life is what you would term supremely quiet. I miss Scrabble. Trevor and his wife Liz are very nice and they have two dogs that are pretty well behaved so it's not that bad. I wish i had more access to a computer but i think i'll only to able to steal comp time from a person at work every once in awhile which will kind of suck. But anyhow.....life is great. England is a blast. Ha.

I am sitting here, almost completely packed for England, and it's only four am in preparation for a 12:40 flight. I just realized my layover is in Detroit but it's only for an hour so that kinda sucks. Nancy, Victor, Jimmy and Des are over and they are going completely delirious from lack of sleep but they've stuck it out (Hong and Adam busted out a while ago) while i packed. I think i am ready now. I have a huge suitcase and a very heavy backpack and a laptop but i think about it and i really packed the bare minimum for a six week stay. I didn't bring anything frivolous but despite that my suitcase is bulging. Gotta learn to pack lighter.



I hope that i get Internet access in England but i'm not really expecting it. Time to sit down and write letters. Or try to anyway. I kind of want to just go there and be a recluse and just work and learn but i think i've be sort of expected to fulfill a number of social obligations. We'll see how it goes. Six weeks is actually pretty damn short so this trip will just be a short jaunt. See you all in a few. Take care. Lates.

Things to remember: Victor's rendition of a "Parachute." Hong's powerful yet eventually futile attempts to pose as the Eiffel Tower. Eric thinking that "Limbo" could NEVER be sculpted in clay. Twat. "Draw the horse! Draw the horse! Abort Abort!!!" Drawing on James. That was fun.



Board games are fun (Top Board Games: Clue, Monopoly, Cranium, Scrabble, Diplomacy, Trivial Pursuit) Cranium is a GREAT game. Superlatives aren't enough to describe the fun it might cause.

Driving back from LA today, after dropping off Helen at LAX and Michelle in Hacienda Heights, i started to get that disturbing "alone" feeling i always get after a big trip has finished. The feeling of having a score of friends flying around with you for a week doing absolutely nothing but playing, eating and sleeping. The feeling of pulling into my driveway and knowing that for the first time in two weeks there won't be a 4Runner, a M3 and an Infiniti pulling up alongside. I hate this feeling.



On Friday i'm off to England for six weeks and that will be the first time that i'll be alone for so long, dating back to the initial few weeks of freshman year. I've become so accustomed to having people within easy reach that the thought of being in a whole 'nother world with no friends about frightens me to no end. I have this reckless need to have people around me at all times and usually being alone for even one day starts to get me on edge and semi-panicky. At the same time, i do look forward to the experience because i know that i will be forced to sit down and to think about issues that i've avoided for quite awhile. It's just odd to have constructed such a comfortable little bubble and then to have to leave that space.



Not to overdramatize this whole leaving thing (because people do it everyday) but i feel like Siddhartha leaving behind his home and his possessions to go in search of himself. I hope in a way that this little six-week test run in England will make me a little better prepared for whatever comes afterwards. I think i've milked the past month in California aplenty and despite this dropping sinking feeling of aloneness i don't quite hate it as much i used to. Yeah right.

Who said i was trying to?

Hey, i'm not the genius who wrote it, i just recited it to maybe help you out.

You're not helping.

That seems to have a Catch-22 ish ring to it. To succumb to fear only after the fact? Isn't that just the same as never having feared at all? You're pretty much just telling me to push aside the fear of change until after the change has happened. That's a pretty ass backward response don't you think?

I read something once about how people are never without fear but the courageous man succumbs to it only after the event is over, as opposed to the weak man who falls to his knees before and during.

Then i suppose the only way to fight against fear is to embrace change? Or is it to ignore the prospect of pain and to harden ourselves to it so that we no longer fear through training and repetition? Where exactly does the courage spring from that will hold fear at bay?

You're leaving out the most important part of fear however. The driving force behind fear is change. The unknown brings about change. Pain brings about change. Sometimes that is a good thing but in each instance, the unknown potential for change and pain is what causes fear.

"There is nothing to fear but fear itself."



But what exactly is fear? I've been asked if i'm afraid of going off to England and China. I'm not really sure if i'm afraid or more...reluctant. I guess in a sense i am afraid because i think that fear pretty much encompasses the unknown. But fear is also synomynous with pain. The unknown taken by itself is fundamentally exciting but i think that by adding in the potential element of pain, the unknown becomes fear. So in that sense i'm not really afraid because i don't think i'll be hurt or pained.

New Year's Eve is typically about as exciting for me as just about any other day of the year. One year i was in a parking lot smoking cigarettes due to a lack of a better idea. A few years ago i was in a caravan of cars driving to a friend's when New Year's hit. Last year was spent watching the ball drop alone on my couch in Jersey. Every few years we have a New Year's party and those are probably the more exciting New Year's i've ever had. All these families and kids come over and the adults wear silly hats and we all count down and then sing "Auld Lang Syne." Once i think we had a rented wheel of fortune thing for the kids. Or maybe that was a Christmas party. That would make more sense i guess.



Anyhow, with those years as a standard of measurement, this year was perhaps the most exciting New Year's i've ever had in my life. It wasn't much and it wasn't exactly mind numbing fun but at least we did something. That something was three hours of 15+ people stuck in a little room singing karaoke. It was fun but singing sappy love songs with fifteen non-drunken people isn't always conducive to a fruit bursting type of fun. James did a pretty damn impressive rendition of Jodeci's "Lately" however. Afterwards we all went to eat at Keith's and got one big long table and that was pretty exciting because the omelette was quite delicious.



Holidays are overrated. Especially New Year's. Ten seconds of excitement if you're lucky. Whoopee. Can't wait for next year. Actually, we didn't even count down right because we missed it so we had to do a pseudo-countdown. Can you feel the excitement?



(This is in no way saying that i didn't have a good time just hanging out with a mass of friends however, just more of a diatribe against the futility of celebrating a flip of the calender. I think i lack spirit. Holiday, school or otherwise.)