A Long-expected Party

I just took the most wonderful nap. I love me some naps. Nap nap nap.

So let the memories be good for those who stay.

October means rain. I don't mind — yet. But I will soon. The last two weeks have been the most beautiful I've ever seen in Vermont, so I suppose we've earned a bit of dreariness. I'm making myself a promise, related to that. Next year, I am going to take a series of walks outside of campus and take pictures of the fall colors. I didn't do that much this time around, and now that the wet part is here, I think I may have missed my chance. I did take some though. The iPhone painting effect is on display here, and by that I mean a couple of these pictures resulted from close zoom-ins with my phone, which somehow end up looking like watercolors.

Creepy Stuff Happens in Nowhere

It must be Monday again. Mondays aren't too bad for me. I've got one class, and it goes from 9:05 to 9:55. Tuesdays are a little different. I have three classes and a lab. That's six and a half hours of sitting in a classroom. And Tuesday is our hardest workout day in XC. And it means I usually have a lot of work to do on Mondays, which is definitely true today.

Wait only for my boot heels to be wandering.

Here I am, sitting at my computer in my dorm room in Middlebury, Vermont, and I've got to write all about my time in Southern California over spring break. There must have been at least 38.6 billion moments during the trip that were awesome enough to merit mention here. With any luck, I'll remember half of them. Because I am lucky enough to be friends with the photographically inclined David Russell, I have a huge photo library, courtesy of the big man, at my disposal. These pictures should help with the storytelling.

Welcome to the Hotel California

A black arrow, doused in snake venom, whizzed through the air for fifty meters, then embedded itself in the heart of a mail-clad soldier. His mail armor was weak, and he faltered, then fell off his mount, eyes full of death. The small scout force of humans braced for an attack, but too late. Forty lkaks, creatures distinguished by the smell of rotten eggs about them and three large horns sticking out of their forehead, leapt out of the trees, quickly cutting down the nine remaining humans. In a few short seconds, it was over.