What now

Ahhhhhhhh!!!!!!!
I feel so weird--like I have all the time in the world and yet not enough time. Two of my roommates are leaving tomorrow. They're packing, so I feel the need to pack. Yet, I have nothing to pack. I'm not going anywhere! And, I feel the need to study but don't know where to begin.

So, I went to the library (where it's nice and cool) and pulled out the book Nicholas Nickleby by Charles Dickens. I starting to read it but got frustrated because I kept thinking about all the other books I've been meaning to read. I've got the summertime blues. It's as simple as that.

I've got another bit o' news on the radio drama dilemma:
It turns out that my friend who's putting the whole thing together is too busy to do it this summer. He's decided to put it off until he has more time. This means I'm off the hook. I must have scared him. For those of you who do not know, I emailed him to tell him that I felt uncomfortable cursing unless it was a critical part of the character. He never responded directly to this--he just told the whole group that he wouldn't be able to pull the drama together this summer.

Odd fact about me (for the lack of something more urgent to write):
Some of you may already know this one, but I figure it ties in with the radio drama. When I was in kindergarten, my parents bought me a sony recorder with a microphone. I recorded myself telling stories, singing songs, and (my favorite) eating spaghetti. You see, I was meant to do this all along.

Other random factoid:
During kindergarten I planted a lemon seed after devouring a lemon. Those were the days when I actually ate lemons whole. For the longest time, the lemon tree sat on top of our water cooler in the kitchen. It's now taller than me and grows quite happily in our backyard. This is very interesting stuff, I can tell you that.

Everything comes in threes:
In preschool I had all of Harry the Dirty Dog and Sleepy Time Squirrel memorized. Every night I'd sit by my papa and "read" these literary treasures to him. After this, I'd lie on his belly and he'd make a "babygirl sandwich". He'd lather all types of dressings onto the sandwich. You know, the usual mayo, ketchup, pickles, snails, monkey brains, and pepper. Then, of course, he proceeded to eat me, occasionally spitting out a shell or gagging on monkey parts.