Making plans from Burlington, NC always seems futile. It's like if Hitler tried to take over from New Jersey, declaring it a position both necessary and vital for his future invasion of America . Like he needed a whole state of burning tires to succeed.
But tonight was kind of like that. Making the long, impossible shot that makes no sense but you do it anyway. It's like that long jump halfway through level 8-2 of the first Super Mario Brothers. You know you can't make it without failing, but goddamned if it ain't the only way across. Warp Tunnels can only take you so far, cheater McBeaver, you eventually have to make the jump.
And so I say that the only person besides Berg who is still around has made solid future plans with me in her immediate future. To L.A., in fact. We drank to it. What does that mean? Several Things:
1.) My testes have dropped. They are now caught somewhere between my thighs and knees. (Please do not visualize this region) This also indicates I will now use my college education.
2.) It acknowledging that the accolades I've gotten throughout the years here aren't just because no one else submits. They might signify something. Like accomplishment.
3.) I am not as short as I thought I was.
Who's excited to be writing screenplays for the next few months/weeks in preparation? This kid!
Reminders for class: When Monday starts, best avoid all of it. Sleep 'till Tuesday.
[ed note: went back and fixed all the things that didn't make sense. I posted drunk. really.... drunk.]
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