Summer, Round Two.

I think my liver has grown another sheet of armor--or at least I hope it is. This summer is proving to be almost as full of booze and partying as the last. The one thing is missing is my mighty partner in crime who decided she really needed to graduate by going to a small village in the mountains in Chiapas and count ants on coffee plants.

Leaving for Miami in two days. I need to call my mom and let her know that I'm alive--I think she's starting to worry. Can't decide if she really needs to know that I'll be leaving the state for a week or not.

Last night, we rented another proyector and screen then packed the house with twenty-five screaming, cursing students and their closest affiliates. After a heartbreaking night that will not be mentioned from this point forward, we headed out to Necto where we drank like the disillusioned youth we are not.

During the game, my phone started ringing. An area code that was, and wasn't, familiar all at once. As always, I'm never sure if I should answer--but did anyway. A voice I didn't recognize immediately on the other end, then it dawned on me that it was my very own Shirley Ma.

There's something so sad about not recognizing a voice first thing. I don't know if it was the air, the molecules rearranging through the waves.

I swear, the sadder I get from being here and missing everyone, makes me that much more ready to leave. I almost wish I didn't have to stay until the end of August and could leave tomorrow, but oh well.

Really, what makes it worth it is the other phone call I got yesterday--the one from Andrew after he finished the interview and got the job in Sydney. That's one more match for Michigan and a life-changing experience that's about to begin. Sweeet.

I suppose staying around for a few more months is worth it when people are heading off like that. But, damn. Time to gooooooo.