RIGHT NOW I'M:
---listening to the soothing sounds of the Red House Painters
---feeling unartistic (is that a word?)

I just spent two hours on a dynamically lit, charcole self-portrait of myself. Hmm...I guess "self-portrait" implies that it was of myself. Whatever. I'm thinking that it's all good and then I take it out of the bathroom (uh..let me explain...I needed controlled lighting, so I took a lamp into the bathroom to use the only mirror in this proximity. This confused my suitemate as he walked in to go to the bathroom) and I put it down to look at it and I realize that the bottom of the face is too thin, the right eye is bigger than the left, and...it just sucks. Ok...so it doesn't really "suck", but at least in my opinion it is horrible. Terrible. I should never be allowed to touch charcole again, or pencils, or pens...HEY...that would get me out of school work! Cool.

So Aaron donated my silverware to Aramark...the dining service here. There was this mountainous pile of plates, cups, bowls, silverware, and ants on top of our refrigerator. Aaron thought it would be nice to take them to the dish return place, so he did...but he did so without realizing that my silverware was mixed in. Oh well, I'll just have to gank some from the caffeteria.

Speaking of food...the ants won't go away. They are attacking non-food items. I fear for my life.

I walked through the campus the other day and saw hordes of men in their mirrored aviator sunglasses, plain suits, short haircuts, earpieces, and small briefcases that housed automatic weapons. I laughed as I thought to myself, "Secret service agents." Funny they should be so steriotypical. It seems that Dick Cheney's wife was here for some reason, and so she took half the secret service with her to protect her from the unruly college kids still drunk from the partys the night before. Or from the cockroaches that scurry everywhere. Maybe she's afraid of cockroaches. But I think we should have had snipers on the roofs...that would have been cooler. Snipers, just like ninjas, make anything cooler.

There is a point where bravery turns into sheer stupidity. The day of the secret service agents was one of those days. Some kid who must have bathed in marijuana leaves 10 minutes before judging by the smell walked up to a secret service agent who was about his size and said, "You don't look so tough...I bet I could kick you ass!" Needless to say he was ejected from the campus.

I am Jack's feeling of complete restlessness

Last night I got in bed at 10:30pm...I looked up at the clock after laying there and not even getting close to sleeping and saw 1:00am...that's probably not a good thing.

Alright...you know how you come here and you read my site? And then you get to the end of the thing I recently wrote and you see "posted by Grant Paige" then the time and then a little button that says, "comment"....well....that is meant for you to press and comment (just like the word says) on what you have read. I like comments. They make me feel special. I can then make my own comments on your comments and it's like this little message board thing and we all smile and the peasants rejoice and the angels sing hallelujah. See? Easy as that. Now do it.