As I am writing this I am sitting in my lit class. My Professor, who likes to be called "Lewis" is talking about romanticism. I've been playing Chess for quite a while and keep using the 'undo' ability because I keep losing. It isn't that I don't respect what he is saying, but it is so methodical. He has gray hair and I'd clock him in his mid 50's, maybe early 60's. He screams literature. Powdery white hair, gravelly, lecture voice. The guy oozes the love for word, poetry and cracked out play writes. It's a respectable demeanor. I feel that if this class was taught by anybody else it would be remotely boring. He always wears jeans and a weird flannel shirt, usually every class but the design of the button up would change from day to day. Thank god. I even brought my laptop to class with the anticipation of boredom, half of the class shares the same sentiment that I do.

^^^ - i posted this later on so that happened rather than is happening. I just didn't edit cause i'm stoned

But enough about the location, lets go to the topic of: ME.

Last Friday my parents had friends in town and we hosted them and they threw some party at home. It was about six or seven of us. I am the only youth there but I had fun. My parents and their guests got incredibly drunk. Incredibly