I'm updating because I figure you've probably gotten pretty tired of staring up my nose. No more fun with the digital camera in this entry, I promise.

Warning: this will be my last entry for at least a week. I'm going to visit my aunt in Memphis tomorrow, and despite being super-rich and having a son who studies computers for a living, her computer is almost never in working order. Also, I don't want to open this up in a place where certain relatives of mine could find it. Yeah, I know how to erase all evidence that I was here, but that's not all that would be erased, and she might not appreciate it.

I'll be back home late on the night of the Fourth, but I don't think I'll have time to fool with the computer as I'll be repacking to go to California the following morning, where I'll be visiting Jamie (and, unfortunately for me, Jonathan) for a week. Their computer works, but I'm not sure I update without them noticing, and then I'd have to erase the memory again. For obvious reasons, I really don't want to give Jonathan an opportunity to find this. Instant death for me. Though, considering, he's already given me instant death at least twice, and I did survive.

The mascara stain on my bedspread is his fault. Well. I'll just go on down to Hot Springs and hook up with Calculator Boy, who is almost as hot as HOT ED. (Andrea maintains that HOT ED is not hot, as do most people, but they haven't seen him in the flesh. He's HOT.) And CB's obviously smart. And polite. Who needs fat, narcissistic euphonium players anyway? Never trust those low brass types.

I adopted Jimmy Bond. He's my puppy. And I don't mean that in a sexual or even romantic way. We'll leave that to Yves. Jimmy's just my puppy.

I have to write another column tonight. I detest my job.

Mother bought a USB port for our other, mega-crappy, computer. Now she can have my crappy Lexmark printer (photo quality my ass...) and I can have the tempermental paper-grabbing Epson, and we can all be happy.

I must pack tonight. Remember: My aunt wants me to bring my album. Jamie wants me to bring my clarinet, Monty Python and the Holy Grail, and Real Genius.

Today was the last day of my summer school speech class. For our final exam, we had to write a 500-700 word essay on how to prepare and deliver a speech. I don't know about the other members of the class, but my speech preparation method takes up about one paragraph:

Procrastinate until about one hour before class starts, then decide which of your old term papers you will recite. Dig it out of the hard drive, read it one or two times, spend five minutes making a basic outline, then goof off until classtime. When you are called upon, stand calmly in front of the class and make things up, referring occasionally to your outline. You will make an A every time you employ this method.

I figured Dr. Alder probably wouldn't go for that, so I procrastinated until about one hour before class started, scanned the three chapters in the book about speech preparation and delivery, and regurgitated it onto notebook paper in class, making things up from time to time to fill the space. I'll most likely get an A.

My greatly loved band directors are moving to a house in my neighborhood right across the street from the one we used to live in. It's about six blocks away from this house. Two questions: a)why did they have to wait until right before I move away, and b)why did we move in the first place? Yea, but grrr. How typical of life.

I really should write my column now, but I think I'll play American McGee's Alice instead.