I feel the need to write this because most of my blog is me ranting about stuff, not what actually goes on in my life. It's such a shitty excuse for a diary in that respect- I won't be able to read this over several years later and remember things that happened, because I never write about them.

Quote of Yesterday:
(while writing thank you letters to the mentally ill patients who talked to us at Springfield Hospital)
Alex Dudley: Dear Walter... thank you for talking to us.. we had a crazy time..

I think I did go insane. Springfield Hospital was as boring as mud. I was (unsensitively, probably) hoping/expecting that it'd be like at Bellavue, with loony people yelling, "I HATE THIS PLACE. THE MEDICINES DON'T WORK. I'VE BEEN HERE FOR SEVEN YEARS. I HATE THIS PLACE." but it was a nice, happy place. With really boring staff members making presentations. Though the guy who talked to us, Walter, was really cool once you got past the fact that he had a hard time talking because his meds got his tongue swollen. Now that I think of it, he wasn't really as funny as we all remember him (having gotten our group to break out into spontaneous laughter), it's just that he was really cheerful and animated, and the mood spread. And when asked about the opportunities for patients to have relationships, a staff member said that they didn't officially condone relationships but some patients would go out on the hospital grounds for "bush therapy." That brought the house down. But it's not as funny when I tell it. Nothing ever is.

Springfield looked/felt like an elementary school. It was the horrid yellow bricks. Rob had suspected it used to be a college, but it wasn't- it was always a mental institution. I still wouldn't like to live there. It was, however, unlike RM for the last two days, completely air conditioned.

The bus ride was real good. It was fun talking to Rob but Nick was cranky and antisocial on the (airconditioned charter) bus the whole time, and just slept. The scenery was marvellously pretty (I suppose anything's pretty in spring), even though Rob observed that landscapes like that were a dime a dozen in Maryland. I don't think that's a bad thing.

But we got back by seventh period and I ended up going to math anyways even though I just could've skipped, and I didn't have my homework or my AP problem done because I hadn't expected to be going to seventh. See, see, it's not irresponsible like when you don't do your homework because it might snow the next day. On the sheet, it said that we were excused from seventh, so I'd thought the night before that I wouldn't have to go to math and didn't do my homework. And I didn't get to feel morally superior to the people who did skip either, because the only reason I didn't skip was because I thought other people would go, and give me away. Oh, and Mr. Willard said I couldn't retake the physics heat test at all because I already used up two Mulligans last quarter, and I think I'm getting a C. So I was real cranky. Heat does that to me.

But I did good on today's math test. Wazzah. Thus ends my boring, boring blog entry. I'm beginning to see why I don't talk about my life much.

I AM THE KING OF MASHED POTATOES.
On another note.
People somehow universally think I'm referring to Nick S in my 11/20 blog. I wasn't. He seems to be quite happily depraved. Anyone with Hawaiian shirts and a seven inch shlong can't be too depressed. I was referring to some sad depressed people I met on The MoFo. I love the place; it's been my home away from home since 6th grade. I love the people. Even if they're crazy. Like Frederik, who got manically depressed about a bus driver telling him not to drink juice on the bus. And got locked inside a museum in Sweden after closing time. And Rich, who insists that Sonic the Hedgehog is real, and heard voices from cartoon characters in his head. There are other depressed people, but they're not as mentally ill, as far as I know. I have enough Angsty friends who're depressed for a variety of reasons, and for the most part the last thing they need is some shit telling how they should be happy and stop whining. I'm thankful for their existance. Even if they aren't thankful for their own.