My first day back here, I met some new friends through John, my tall, frisbee-wielding, bathrobe-wearing, guitar-playing pranking buddy. One of them, Aaron, is big on walking around randomly at night, which, wouldn't you know it, is one of my favorite things to do. I am very deprived of this simple pleasure of life when I am home, as my family thinks walking around at night is sketchy. In Coho. Rofl.

The first night I got back, we took a walk down Grapevine and found a sign for a cemetery I'd never known existed. We both decided we were up for an adventure and followed the signs to this lovely open field, which narrowed into a drive, which narrowed into a tree-lined path with no streetlights. Said path was peppered with cold spots. Reeeeeally creepy. Then we got to the actual "cemetery," and it was like, three headstones, one of them with a candle in front of it that I tried to convince us both was a will o' the wisp, and a random house. Yeah, not such an adventure anymore. It was exciting for those first five or ten minutes though.

Last night was more exciting. Sarah, a.k.a. "Taz," came with us this time. We walked all the way into the next town (but when I say ALL the way, I really mean that it took us about 15 minutes to get there). We were on the lookout for another adventure, but all we found were houses. Then we came to an intersection that had a couple of little islands in the middle of it, and Aaron goes, "Wouldn't it be funny to hide in those bushes on the island and jump out at oncoming cars?" And I go, "Yeah! Great idea!" Sarah was just like, "oh Lord.... I'll be over there...."

So Aaron and I crouched behind this bush and waited for a car, then jumped up, waving our arms around like lunatics. Mind you, we didn't actually go out in the street or ANYTHING. But this car STOPS, and the two of us choose the darkest looking street and take off down it. It was hard to tell what the car was doing, but it definitely looked like it was pulling around the island to follow us. I thought we were doomed. I thought they were going to call the cops on us. I don't know what I thought. It's not like we actually did anything bad, but this is the way my mind works under pressure, apparently.

Tonight it was me, John and Aaron going spooning. Which is not exactly what it sounds like. Sorry to disappoint. I know all two of my readers were hoping for a little more drama than this. Spooning is simply a euphemism for "pranking." First we took all the plastic spoons from the dining hall, a daring feat since it was earlier than we usually go spooning and there were still lots of people around. John and I discussed staging a hold-up at Denny's to get spoons next time. It might have been more subtle. (We also talked about spray painting spoons with neon paint and sticking them out of his head like a peacock, but we'll leave that one alone.)

Then we make the trek to Woodland, which somehow doesn't seem half as long when you're not actually going to your car. We stuck a spoon under the windshield wiper of every car there. Or almost every. We would have gotten them all if John hadn't put like 10 in this Jeep that was wide open to the world, but it was worth it: he put spoons on the windshield, all four seats, the steering wheel, and the spare tire. Four of them on the spare tire. It was hilarious.

I always wish I could see people's reactions to our little pranks, but alas, our work tends to get undone by the Go-Po before anyone can appreciate it. I think this one might actually get people talking though. I just want to hear ONE person reference it in passing. Just one.

Thankfully, I did manage to finish my ten poems. Just BARELY. I still have to write my paragraph responses, but luckily, I've bought myself time by consistently writing these in my writer's journal, which he has yet to collect, so I just stuck a post-it on the first page saying the responses were in my journal and am going to write them before Friday's class. My prof liked the title of the collection ("The Youniverse is Crumbling All Around Us"). I couldn't bring myself to say that that was probably the only brilliant thing about this poetry collection. I think I skipped one stipulation, too, which was editing a poem for repeated vowel sounds. I hope this doesn't have too much of an adverse impact on my grade. Although, the fact that some of the poems suck so bad they make me want to vomit might have an adverse impact on my grade.

Today was fabulous. I was worried that I would wake up from my nap and it would be dark out, but I had to take one because I had only slept 5 and a half hours on account of the poetry assignment. It was the best nap I've ever taken. I actually fell asleep and had dreams! This simply does not happen to me during the day. I'm not a good napper. And the slightest sound can wake me up - mostly voices, actually, but there are a lot of those in my paper-walled hallway, so usually a nap means futilely laying in my bed with my eyes shut until I get too bored. For instance, if I wanted to sleep right now, I would probably have to set up camp in the study room, because a couple of girls who live down the hall are in their room screeching, as usual. They aren't fighting. It's just how they talk. Sometimes I just want to screech SHUT THE MUCK UP back down the hall, but I kind of think it wouldn't make a difference. Especially since they'd probably just laugh at me (screechingly) for using the word "muck" instead of a rhyming alternative.

Anyway, when I woke up from my nap two hours later, it was still broad daylight, so I threw on a long skirt and took a looooong walk in the woods. I have to say that I didn't want to come back. It was so glorious outside today. The sunlight was beautiful. (Oh man, all I have to do is vaguely reference the song "Daylight" to get teeny tiny chills up my spine. Ahaha.) Trish said I was turning into Henry David Thoreau for being in the woods. I was deeply insulted. But if I start telling y'all about how much I spent on branches to build my treehouse with Taz or something like that, please virtually shoot me in the head. Thanks.