I went to Octoberfest at Penn Brewery, which means German bands, dancing, yelling stories, and the coolest hang-over I've had since I turned twenty-one. I watched the tale end of the debate, not drinking water, and fell asleep on a sweet couch.
In the morning, there was puking.
Then the puking of water.
And now my clavicle hurts.
So I didn't get much done this weekend, which is fine.
Lots of coordinating and sorting things out. A couple Ideas of import.
I just have to read "The Woman Warrior" and a couple essays for Tuesday.
But my collected syllabi are totally not cool and we aren't talking anymore.