Well, I was planning on a monumental entry that would be comprised of selective thoughts over the last year. Realistically, not going to happen. I end my 20th year on the planet as I intended: working hard, sweating over things I could probably still change, and with a bottle of cider chilling. No girlfriend, no rest, no surrender, no retreat. Now, two term papers and an invitation to drink. Twenty-one years…in forty-five minutes. Skibbedebebop. Much later.
Current Track – Estelle “American Boy”