You said go explore those other women, the geographies of their bodies but there is just one map you'll need. You're a boomerang you'll see.....

you will return to me.

Oberlin/ Baltimore was wacky. So here's just a list:
1. Number of sing-alongs: 4
a. Third Eye Bind "semi charmed kind of life" (grant, oliver, liz's house)
b. Fastballs 'the way" (see above)
c. Fiddler on the Roof (myself, Michael Rosen)
d. All of Lifted (Hannah and I, driving home)

2. Amount of gum (in yards) that I bought my sister this weekend: 2

3. Repititions of naming the Sat. night party "The Death of Fun": 6

4. Number of serious attempts made to have a threesome with my sister and me: 1

5. Number of times my sister used the phrase "instigating" to deter me from throwing jolly ranchers/ tampons/et all at people I didn't like: too many to count.

6. Times I got too stoned to do anything than perch menacingly and wait for unsuspecting prey: see above.


So in conclusion, most conversations at the party went something like this:
Hipster: Hey how are you?
Me: Im great!!
Hipster: How's life?
Me: Oh man, I'm doing so well right now. Life is awesome.
Hipster: Oh cool, you enjoying this party?
Me: NOT A BIT!
(someone walks by with a pineapple on head, floor caves in, death of fun is complete. All in all, it was one of the Bluth's better parties.)
Tommorow: taking an early flight back to New York, the land where talking smack is limited to snickers about the people who buy Mackesons. I dunno, maybe they know something I don't.