Ah, yes. 'Tis the season of the Winter Camp. Granted, the ever-reliable weather.yahoo tells me it will be rain, rain, rain. So basically, it's just like home, except with public showers and wooden bridges. And Winter Camp has football, which is football. Enjoyable if you want it to be, miserable if you want it to be. One of those subjective circumstances.
Ah, but it will be good this year. I predict mud, all without the aid of the magical Yahoo! metereologists. Mud is fun, especially when you miss a pass, and land face down in it. Can you tell I've had experiences?
I don't think people particularly like it when I play, though. Makes it two-hand touch, see. I think tackle's fine, but I'm willing to admit that girls injure more easily than boys. Two-hand touch is fine by me. I just like the game. Nothing like an interception.
Waxing poetic about football. Hey, better than waxing poetic about school, mmm? Dangit. Didn't want to remind myself. But, since I have, you, my loyal viewers, will have to suffer through it. Bwa and ha. It seems as though all of the difficulties with school come from English. I don't know, I just aaaarrrgggghhh. I keep trying to remember "Do everything without complaining", but it is extremely difficult.
This is perfect. Complaints about English when majoring in English is a particular goal in mind. Contradictions (contrariety, subcontrariety, whatever) are so enjoyable when you're tired and have to pack.
Morning Thanks--what Luther discovered
15 hours ago