Dear Elle,


I originally had so much to say today, but I've forgotten it all while constantly listening to the new Morrissey album, Ringleader of the Tormentors. I am not a man who is usually taken in by british rock, but Morrissey is always an exception. Easily his best solo work yet.

Lets start with essential things when it comes to life. Food and shelter. The former is good, and the latter is better. I was able to secure a single apartment room on campus next year in Moore Complex (with super discounted housing rates!) with a poker playing friend of mine in another room with his buddy. My own room. Solitude. My own kitchen. The simple things in life really are the ones that do make one happy. And this apartment was not easy to obtain -- dozens of others tried, but failed, as they just aren't as cool as me. (there are technically other reasons, but I won't delve into those).

The weather here was good today. I know talking about the weather is as useless as pleasantries and gossip about former lovers, but this is Buffalo we're talking about. Rather than 6 degrees, it was 60. Granted, it was raining and thunderstorming (and on a bus ride this afternoon, we stopped at what I suspected was a private, mostly spanish speaking high school) as at least 15-20 hispanic kids suddenly got onto the bus. amusing.

But I felt like just sitting outside in the rain all day, as morose as that sounds. I wish there were more days like that in regards to nice weather.

_______________

There was about a 2 day break in between when I wrote that and what I'm writing now. I can't even finish a letter in one sitting. And I call myself an English major. . .

Possibly minor, depending on how I feel next semester. The courseload is going to be heavy, and I don't know if I'm going to be able to handle several English classes, in addition to likely volunteer work and possibly internships through the social work program. I am, however, psyched about taking ENG445, American Realism, with my favorite professor, Peter Ramos. You know how much I love American Realism. Or maybe you don't. There's a lot you don't know about me, but I'm sure you could figure it out, if I gave you a few non-roofied alcoholic drinks and a couple days to probe my mind.

Just one day after that 60 degree weather, it snowed the next day. At night before I went to bed, I looked out my 6th-story window and saw the most intense snow I've ever seen. It stuck to the pavement lightly, and seemed to transcend through the orange lights surrounding the four adjacent towers which house my peers and colleagues. The wind directed the snow in the path of my window -- it was a view that you'd get if you were driving down a black highway at 2 AM in rural New York, with the high beams on. If there hadn't been a window, and the snow had been made of sharp metal, I would have been killed. Death by metallic snow.

But it wasn't metallic snow -- it was just -- well, snow. But it was beautiful. I don't think I could describe it any better unless I had a few pints of Guinness in me.

I plan on drinking the remainder of my bottle of gin tomorrow, for my 1:10 PM flight home. As I said, I'll be in Philly Saturday and back early evening Sunday -- but I can't wait to see you. A mix-CD of 18 brilliant songs you probably haven't heard will be waiting.

yr hmbl & obt svt,



kev ¶ 2:46 AM |