Hi Journal,
    I finish up my independent study course today.  Tomorrow my parents come in to town and I have a bit of a free day until they arrive, a free day in which I'm implicitly expected to pack.  My stuff's mostly in boxes and rubbermaid containers, however, so it should be the work of a moment. 
    Tonight, Laurel is coming over and we're going to write a story together for Constance, who is in Alaska.  I think the neatest part about this webdiary is I can look back on it in a month and it will still be up.  I can see what I'm going through and my particular thoughts at the point in time I was writing.  A record for accuracy and a timeline of memories. 

Currently Listening Andrew Bird & the Mysterious Production of Eggs By Andrew Bird Fake Palindromes & Masterfade see related

Hello Webdiary,
   How are you?
I'm fine, I'm listening to a song called Fake Palindromes.  It's about monsters, and the song was written by a Chicagoan, Andrew Bird, who spent a good deal of time in NOLA, probably doing loads of drugs- papercuts.  
   
      The girl in the short yellow dress says,
       "Loose your exhortations,
        your Christian expectations,
      about pregnancies and abortions
        Slander- 'Slut, bitch, whore'
      murder after conception
         There's enough people on earth already
     We don't need anymore."
        
 This is the culmination of liquids and gases, the epitome of a two decade education and a hundred bought textbooks.  What a weak post.  Water in scotch.  

Good afternoon. 

I'm preparing to go to Sweden.  I'll be there for five months, and I'm on scholarship.  The city is Lund, and the university is named after the city, Lund University.  It is the Harvard of Sweden, and Lund U. has 40,000 people that attend.  It's enormous.  They have a massive number of exchange students and, I would guess, many of them are from the states.  There must also be a substantial number of Chinese, as you can read Lund's website in either Chinese, Swedish, or English.  If anyone would like, they can either email me at DavidMurphy13@gmail.com or post a comment with their name and mailing address, and I will send them a postcard from Scandinavia.

    Other than Sweden, I've been writing a short story and taking 12 hours over the summer.  The story is about euthanasia.  I'm sort of ashamed, but I borrowed heavily from the style of Gabriel Garcia Marquez when I wrote the story.  A family gets stuck on an island with a dead father, whom the family buries.  There is a tribe of Indians with automobiles and airplanes, a plant with rainbow colored sap, and a man named Mr. Griot whose first name no one can pronounce and who has a library whose covers are all pink.  If you're interested in reading it, send me an email and, if I feel like it, I'll show you the rough draft.  The draft is 28 pages in length.

    Oh, and I moved again yesterday, so I now live in Fox Run Apts., though I doubt I'll be sleeping there, when I can sleep over at Constance's instead.   
     au revoir,
David.

I invested in a new girlfriend recently, Constance Buckner is her name.  She's bright and brunette and very concerned about society.  She lives just down the road, and we brought her bike back from her dad's house today, so now we can go bicycling about through the city like quaint Europeans. 
     My friend in The Netherlands wrote me today, and she called me yesterday.  I was excited to hear her voice- it's breathy and existential and when she calls, I feel like there's something to talk about.  We haven't talked on the phone in months, but I don't think any bit of it would be awkward, only comfortable and reassuring like sitting next to the fire and watching the winter's snow pile up in drifts outside your window.  
      I'm afraid, however, that work is calling right now. 
Ciao.
    David.