I wish I could make a painting of the way it felt, driving home tonight. Every so often, there are times when I drive at night where everything just gets...hazy. Listening to Mae, holding on to the steering wheel with one hand, I watched as the flourescent neon lights passed by me, bright splashes on an otherwise darkened canvas. I felt like I was halfway, in-between, not completely there. I still feel vaguely out-of-focus. I think everything is just starting to hit my mind, the realizations that summer truly is almost over. It's funny, because it's felt like such a long time, and yet I don't even have to close my eyes to feel the warm breeze of Branford, FL hitting the back of my neck as I stood outside, watching Eb and Caleb skateboard in the middle of the street after midnight. It all feels so clear to me, the beach and being touristy in Ripley's Believe It or Not, the little diner with amazing crepes, and the many mornings of spending way too much time in bed.

And yet, here I am, thousands of miles and hundreds of days away from where I started. I can't believe that this week is almost over, that I'm going to a different beach on Friday, that school is approaching as rapidly as a freight train. I feel as though I'm standing on the tracks, seeing it come towards me, but not realizing exaclty how close it is.

However, I'm realizing it enough to get lazy. These past few days have been terrible for me. Honestly, I just want to sit around and count the minutes till I'm gone. Or at least, watch tv. All of my drive and determination is quickly dissapearing. It's as though my mind says, 'Hey, there's no point--you're leaving soon, and when you get to Virginia, you'll be soooo busy. Just sit here and do nothing! Watch rerun after rerun of Trading Spaces and SNL's from four seasons ago. It won't hurt you!" Hah. Maybe not, but my energy is being sucked right out through my fingers and into the remote control. I really wanted to finish the layout for the "culture" section of the site, but I don't know if that will happen before Friday. I'm working most of tomorrow, and then I have to pack--seeing as how we're leaving the next morning and I haven't so much as thought about what I'm bringing with me.

If you've never eaten at California Pizza Kitchen, you need to. Their garlic chicken pizza is truly amazing. Words do not do it justice. Oh, and if your excuse is that you don't have a CPK near you, then go to your local grocer, my friend. They've got frozen versions that taste almost exactly like the original. I happen to know, since Courtney and I split one tonight. Yum. (Oh, and I really have no idea if grocery stores that aren't in Michigan carry them, seeing as how I live...in Michigan. But it never hurts to check!)

We rented Punk-Drunk Love tonight. With Adam Sandler. I can't say I'm a huge Adam Sandler fan in the first place, but...wow. The plot was just terrible. Horrible. It was honestly one of the strangest movies I've seen in a long, long time. The filming was beautiful, lots of great camera angles and unique long-shots and editing. And if it were just a so-so movie, that would make a difference. But this? Ugh. Terrible. Don't be a fool like me and waste three bucks on it. I wouldn't even watch it on Saturday Afternoon Movie Television.

Courtney got me a pound of Breakfast Blend ground coffee from Starbucks. She works there, so she gets free coffee now and then. I'm very excited, Jill (my roomate) is bringing a coffee-maker this semester, and I even bought vanilla syrup and caramel sauce to use on it. We are gonna be coffee heaven, oh yes.

Well, I have to go to work tomorrow at ten, so I think for once I'm going to bed before midnight. So enjoy your night/day/whatever, and buy some garlic chicken pizza. Your stomach will thank you.