Feeling: literary
Listening to: Ella Fitzgerald - Blue Skies
Reading/Watching: Gilmore Girls

Also for the daily-writing challenge, today's prompt was "Seven New Messages."

To be honest, I didn't pass notes in class until college. I was a very serious student in highschool, fascinated by what the teacher said, and I would glare reprovingly at the lucky beautiful people who tossed bits of fashionably colored paper back and forth, and would noisily unfold them to giggle at the contents.

But then I met a girl with spiky blonde hair, who introduced herself on the first day of college in "Intro to Philosophy" as Bri, and as soon as the professor began to lecture, she immediately passed me a little notepad. Soon we were writing dialogues back and forth on each other's notes. By the end of the course, I had her comments filling my margins, and the edges of her pages were scrawled with my replies. The conversation is still going four years later.

"Man studies historicity, not history.

Hey, so how did it go with that guy on Friday?

historicity: the way a person is imbedded in their exact time and place

He WHAT?! Remind me to run him over with my truck later.

and can only affect the world from where they stand in that time and place.

You should skip bio and go to breakfast with me.

History is what we know cerebrally without experiencing, and exists only because we remember it

No, come on. Tell him you're sick.

What we forget no longer exists because our mind doesn't have it to be referenced by anything in present memory.

Dear Mr. Droningman, I was unable to attend blah bleh blah because I:
A) got a flat tire
B) had a migraine
C) tripped on my way up the stairs, fell onto my hairbrush, and was immediately rushed to the emergency room to have imbedded boar bristles removed from my right thigh
D) just didn't feel like getting up
E) Had forgotten what the word 'breakfast' means and went out to conduct sociological research on this morning tradition of starch-based sustenance.

(Note to self: does this mean that if all educated people kill each other off, Fear Factor and Road Rules become our nation's entire history?!)

What can I say, it's a gift. You do music, I do excuses.

Homework: read Nietzsche pp. 54-72

Ha, I have corrupted you. My car or yours?"

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