So I did something different tonight. I didn't bother with my year and someodd months short story and started up a new one. It's the fantasy tale of three farmers drafted into the army as scouts and thrown out as a cannon-fodder distraction for the hordes of good acoming. Besides amusing dialogue and asides about how effective it is to call one's army evil so that the monstrous troops don't need to get paid, there's refuse about elves pillaging and raping goblins merrily, the meaning of war and how self-interest reigns no matter who wins.

I won't give away the end, since I will subject each and every one of you to reading it, but let's say it involves a 3/4 slaughtered knight, racial hilarity, and 90's style nihilistic apathy winning out over all in the end. It reeks of liberalism, but beneath that veneer is a pulsating heart that beats just because it's the most interesting thing to do at the moment.

I also professed my romantic affection toward an unnamed someone who I've known for awhile now. Yeah, I know, but even I have to try again once in awhile. It's been a somewhat obvious thing between us but I decided to be direct. Unfortunately I was a little overwhelming in the process. I need to work on that subtle type of confiding bit.

Anyway, this girl is one of my best friends and I didn't want to scrap the thing on account of testicles and butterflies randomly taking up shop in my body cavity. We don't exactly live close to one another, unfortunately, which makes things impractical. Then again, impractical stuff is usually the most fun.

So, this week's university count:

Zarathustra U.

Stanford

Princeton

Johns Hopkins University

Oxford

Aberswyth

Mt. Univeristy

California school of Stuff

Total job prospects:

Absolutely nothing.

Verdict:

If this Princeton lab doesn't accept me, I'm going to get belligerently drunk, cry, rent Apocalypse Now: Redux, identify with Martin Sheen and get incredibly depressed.

Not all in that order or even just once.

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