writing a paper, gonna take all day, writing a paper, gotta get an A

If I got an A, I would flip and freak out. It would be incredible.

I have these cousins. I have these awesome cousins. I have these awesome singing cousins.
They recorded a song Jonah wrote* called "Writing a Paper" and I came across it today as I was setting up my laptop to work on my essay in the library. I played it over once and laughed (silently) really, really hard. The rest of the day it played over and over in my head. I shared it with the friends I was working with and they also laughed. We've been singing lines back and forth today -- mostly the one about procrastinating. So, here is some love for you, Jonah. And Nathan too. The harmonies were wildly popular.

*****

Now it's story time! This is the story of Evey's first tour.

Early last week the registrar's office let me know that my training to be a tour guide would be on Friday and part of this training was going on a tour with one of last year's tour guides. Just before lecture started, I chatted with Brandan, my co-tour guide, and he mentioned something about showing his room on the tour. "Will they want to see my room?" I asked him, quickly thinking about the shitty state of my room, beds unmade, crap everywhere and my roommate's empties sitting out. "I dunno," he said, "They probably would have asked."

I let it pass.

After lecture I met with the tour guide to start the tour and she informed me that yes, we would be looking at my room.

I immediately started to freak out. I tried to breathlessly and quietly explain to the guide that my room was in no state for showing. Could I go fix it up? I mostly got a no, stay with the tour to learn how to do it. My anxiety increased.

Once we hit the library, I knew that we would be going to my room next, so I took off for my room. I don't think I breathed for 3 minutes straight as I ran around the room. You know that cartoon where the kid shoves everything in his closet and under the bed covers? That's exactly what I did. I finished just in time to graciously let the tour in. Phew.


I tried watching the American presidential debate last night. A bunch of us wrote out words to drink to while watching, but they weren't saying our words and just repeating "Wall Street" and "Main Street" over and over. Bo-ring. So I stopped watching.

This is the second FYP essay weekend, so I should try to accomplish something before I goof off for the night at nine. I'm at 618 words (yessssss).


*I think. Am I right Jonah?