I easily had one of the best nights I've had in a while. Meaghan, Oly, and I surprised the Bostonians in Hoboken for the end of the tour, and the night was ridiculous. It was simply out of control. I laughed my ass off from the minute I left Boston until the minute I arrived back in Boston when my head slapped that pillow for a few hours of recovery. I'm exhausted, and I can't explain how happy I would be if I DIDN'T have as much homework as I do.

I was thinking about some things I wanted to talk about last week. A group of us haven't been to this one class since the second week of school, and when the Bostonians left for tour, Tim and I thought that maybe we should check it out to see what we were missing, to assess our level of screwed. Okay, so I'm glad I went because it reminded me why I haven't gone all semester. Not. So lame. The professor is interesting, even though I don't think he really wants to be a professor. I mean, I think he likes having the title, but I don't think he's a big fan of teaching. Anyway, it's a philosophy class. I took a philosophy class my freshman year, and I was fascinated. I thought it was one of the most memorable academic experiences, but this class is NOTHING like that. It's a bunch of assholes with thesauruses shoved up their asses. They use the most unnecessary words. It was a classroom filled with pretentious dicks asking the stupidest questions and making the most outlandish comments to hear themselves speak. Tim and I passed notes. Childish? No, actually, not at all if you saw how funny these notes were. I saved them. I'm a psychology girl, so I study shit that's right there in front of you. Here's how you act, here's the theory for it based off all this evidence. Philosophy, however, is: Here's a thought that makes no sense, but if I use the word "hermaneutic" I can sound fucking smart. I could go into specifics about the stupid shit that was said, but you will all be dumber for having read about it here, and I don't want to have to put you through that.

Something else - Celine Dion. If you like her, that's your business, but I need it known right now that I can't fucking stand her. I'm sorry, but what is UP with her having a new song? Nothing pisses me off more than some wannabe diva making the biggest stink about quitting the business and having enormous, gaudy farewell concerts and polluting the covers of all my favorite magazines just to come back and piss all over my radio stations only two years later. How was that quitting? Oh, you took time off? Novel concept because no one else does that...ever. You're the first. Also, why is her French accent so damn thick now? It's like Miss Cleo and her accent. They all act like we can't fucking tell that they're putting it on so obviously thicker than when they began. Again, really lame. Oh, and if she doesn't eat a million burgers and get some meat on those Canadian twigs she calls her skeleton before I see her next, someone is going down. I feel like ordering a pizza everytime I see her face just to compensate.

Okay, I have to do homework. Set your clocks forward.