Lynnea, don't give Brad access. I saw this on 24. You think he's helping out and BOOM! He's a terrorist. You can't chance it in this day and age. And the catch is, Lynnea, if life is anything like 24, the more you know, the more likely you'll be killed, and soon. That's really why I quit grad school. I saw it was going to be my own doom. There's only three ways to surive: Be hot, be naiive/nerdy, or be Jack Bauer. I'm going to try out the be hot one soon, but I think right now I'm neither that nor Jack Bauer. None of you care about this (except maybe Folkestad).
So Gabe, I think you're awesome, but I also think your life must be one continious human liquid mess after another, and I have to say it makes me a bit past weezy. I'm sure you'll be able to tell us this later, but is fatherhood anything more than being at once the field for the game and the groundskeeping crew for the cleanup? At this point, I plan to never procreate (I heard several sighs of relief... but my leg abnormality is not a handicap).
On that last note, I've had a very random week following my quest for west coast love. Within twelve hours on Thursday, I found myself packaging my own meat, discovering a fuel leak in my car, having dinner at a retirement complex, eating Coldstone with four first-timers, meeting three Russian immigrants (one of which borrowed my shoes), being chewed out in an e-mail from Ireland, driving to Target to help a 25-year-old I just met return a coffee maker, taking a very short-lived walk with a bridesmaid I met last August from Great Falls, partly watching a rerun of the OC in a stranger's house while discussing the ski slopes that I can see out my back window, burning 6 CD's for two girls, and meeting a man who worked with Jim Eliot's brother in Peru building airplanes in the back of churches (not technically in that order, but if I did order those events, would it matter?). It was the sort of day that makes you wonder if it was a dream but you remember that dreams at least combine things that could happen in a random order (like my dream last night about protesting on the Reed College campus... that's all I remember). I'm trying to think if I can explain this any better. I don't think I can. I need to get some sleep. I guess this is one of those blogs to ignore for the most part.
Duerk, I got the package. Those chopsticks are slick as snot on a banana peel on ice. Why'd you give me Halo? I will never do anything for the rest of my life now. Don't worry; I'll still have time to blog. Ha!