1. I have been postmodern, postevangelical, post-9/11, post a lot of things, but let me tell you, you have not posted anything until you've tried postprocrastination! That's right, I'm so done with stressing out over an essay eight hours before its due and finishing with A- quality just in the nick of time. That is so passe. I am now in the more sublime and fragmented (but equally caffeinated) world of postprocrastination: pounding out page after quality, stress-enhanced page of my paper, hours--nay, days!--after the due date, where the only thing to keep you in A for awesome land is your adorable brashness. I say, take your grades and shove them up a Chico State grad admissions officer's ass, and pick up an application at your local TGI Fridays. Life is good!
1a. I was just BSing about the 'sublime and fragmented' bit... sounds kind of like blowing chunks in slow motion...
2. ...which is exactly what I did after getting hammered for my 21st birthday! Just kidding. It was a great day though. After staving off the impulse to stage a passive-agressive self-pity coup, I went out with some friends who bought me dinner and a bottle of vodka. I knocked a couple shots back with carrot-orange juice (which didn't work out as well as Coke, which I tried later) and then went to Cilantro in a happy mood. I talked to three old friends who I hadn't talked to in a long time, and that was a great birthday present. I also got "The Rough Guide to Cult Pop" to help catch me after the years I spent in Christian Rockland.
3. My coffee consumption and level of bourgeoiseness has gone through the roof, and its doubtful whether I'll ever be able to come back down to lead the masses in Glorious Revolution or grow a Che beard. Oh well, I've still got half a bottle of vodka...
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