I just decided that milkshakes are hugs that you can eat.

And then I wanted to hug myself for being so precious.

But I had a milkshake instead. Win-win.

And yes, the rumors are true, throwing newspapers at picnic-ers is the new cool way to forget you're in a family recreation vehicle and have an incredibly low self concept.

The eternal optimist inside me was thinking that maybe these guys had found some article in the news about the dangers of sitting on a grassy knoll and eating pizza, and they were just trying to share that with Lindsay and myself.

But I really doubt it.

Man, I love this town like I love AIDS.

But it sure looks like I'm going to DePaul next year. Not for acting. For whatevering. I'm thinking either psychology, philosophy, or something writing-related.

I didn't get into their acting program -- which isn't saying much, considering they accept 25 girls out of 800 applicants.

This doesn't mean I'm giving up the dream. It just means that I need to get the hell out of here, and the waiting is killing me.

I can't believe I've been home for going on four months. Time slows down to comatose levels in this place.

Did you guys ever see The Phantom Tollbooth? If yes, then do you remember the part where Milo gets stuck in the Dolldrums, and time stops and he can't get out because it's so easy to just do nothing.

He just stops thinking. Because thinking is something.

I think that's why people live in places like Eldersburg.

Some people, anyway.

P.S. -- anyone out there have a drumset they want to give away? I think there is a dangerous shortage of female drummers in this world.

Meg White is cool, but I am clearly much whiter than she, and much Meg-er to boot.

P.P.S. -- I've been pretty low-key lately. Just in case you had forgotten, I am still the reigning queen of clever.

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