There are so many people that I've been planning on writing e-mails/letters to, but instead, I'm using this rare free time to check in with you, Dear Internet. Better be grateful.

The Press office is incredibly dry. I've always thought that people who complained about the quality of air in the indoors were too sensitive for their own good, but this office is so dry that my throat feels like papyrus after only an hour. Somedays I go through two full bottles of water to moisten my throat.

Goooood story.

The Housing situation hasn't really improved, but it really hasn't been bothering me, even though everyone around me seems to be having all kinds of luck and success. I'm really just excited to go to the Shoreland where I will know people, and if I get lonely, there's always the lake. The only thing I'm worried about is not getting a roommate (since as it stands I have no takers) who's as good as Jeremy (and noone's better than Jeremy). But Becky and Julia will be there, and Rita, and a bunch of UT-folk.

I now carry my toothbrush in my backpack. I do this because I end up being out of my room more than I'm not, and it's generally easier to just do the job in Cobb or at the office or in the UT bathroom, since I have this aversion to brushing my teeth before a meal, not after (doesn't it defeat the purpose? Well?). Maybe it's a little melodramatic to carry my toothbrush and toothpaste in my backpack (La Hygiène Bohème?). The truth is, I tried it once and have since forgotten to take them out of the backpack.

Wow, one week until the show opens. It's gonna rock this bitch.