No, I'm not dead

My sincerest apologies to anyone who reads my little bit of cyberspace. I've really been terrible with keeping updates frequent, but circumstances are conspiring against me. Firstly, I had to go home for Easter, which meant twelve hours on an Amtrak train each way. It was only supposed to take 8 hours, but this is what you get for entrusting your transportation to the government. If Amtrak isn't an argument for privatization and competition, I don't know what it. On my way to Washington, I had the misfortune to be seated next to a young man, probably around my age, whose ambition in life was apparently to be a "gangsta", complete with pimp chains, clown size sneakers, pants which were held up by sheer force of will alone (which was obviously waning), and body odor which can only be described as unwashed miscreant. I can only assume that this was a statement against the oppresive prevailing standards thought up by evil white men, which demand regular use of such items as soap and deoderant.
For the train ride back, I saw the same man boarding my train. Fearing that I might by some sick twist of fate end up seated next to him again, and therefore not wishing to leave anything to chance, I spotted a guy in the crowd who appeared to also be close to my age, but with a much cleaner look to him. I practically hurled myself into the seat next to him, and breathed a sigh of relief when I realized that he had the scent of someone who believes in showering. It only got better, when the conductor asked where he was headed, and he replied that he was going to Charleston, in what was unmistakably a British accent. I had just died and gone to heaven.
Being an opportunist by nature, I immediately struck up a conversation, which continued in between my intervals of reading for the entire trip.
The moral of this story, of course, is first not to take Amtrak. Even the acquaintance of a cute Brit "traveling 'round the States" is not enough to ease the utter torment of sitting on a train for 12 hours. Secondary to that, don't trust luck to get you where you want to be; inevitably, fortune will be a total bitch and put you next to Smelly McGangsta. Instead, create your own good circumstances, and you'll have a much pleasanter time of it. Unless of course you're traveling by Amtrak.
Once back in Charleston, I had to go to class in the mornings, and work in the afternoons, which meant that my evenings where reserved for mindless activities, of which blogging is not one. Yesterday was my first day off since getting back, and the weather was absolutely perfect; 85 degrees, no humidity, cool breeze. Let's face it, if I don't come home with a decent tan, there's really no point to having moved all the way to Charleston for college, so sitting inside and staring at my computer was simply out of the question. Now, I am headed into finals week, which means that I'll have plenty of things I'll want to procrastinate on, so that should be incentive enough for me to blog. Perhaps I'll finally get around to a well-constructed rant on college idiocy and why I hate entitlement. That is, if I can't convince my roomie to drive us to the beach.
-The Quartermaster


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