So, it's exam time in these parts. Stressful for some, four days of glorious inactivity for me. As I've been overwhelmed with studying and drinking lately and thus have become too shiftless to Blog about anything of circumstance, I find this an appropriate time to announce my official sign-off for the summer.
You don't care, but first and foremost I'd like to express my sentiments for Albion as a whole. I complain about it here and there and, for a brief moment, considered transferring, but I've found that I do, in fact, like it here. I secretly love knowing and gossipping about all the 17 people who go to this school. Walking around campus makes me feel popular because I always run into at least 5 people I know. Driving 20 minutes to Taco Bell is inconvenient, but it makes those 3 AM T-Bizzle runs truly exciting. I have some excellent professors, most of whom know their students well enough to regularly go out for a beer at Relli's and shoot the shit instead of treating me like a statistic. I like the smell of burning rubber ("The Albion Smell") and the stickiness of a pong ball before it goes sailing through the air on Sig Nu's custom-welded beer pong table. Notably, this year I've discovered a very personal bond between myself and this community. Albion, Michigan is nothing I've ever experienced before. But I love the opportunities I've gotten to learn about this incredibly diverse place and, particularly, get to know a lot of amazing kids. It's really the perfect proving ground for a future teacher. WE BELIEVE IN ALBION! And of course, let's not forget the 313/314 and my phenomenal roommates/best friends. I can't even begin to illustrate how much fun we have in this little cinder block room. It's a gorgeous thing.
I know, however, that more blessed ridiculousness awaits me in the Land of the Wild Artichoke. I cannot wait to be tan, blond, filthy and free, and to sit on the couch watching Scrubs after work, and to DD the brat pack from the Brush at all hours of the night. I can't wait to sing Frankenstein and blob and psychoanalyze children and extract Woodchips of Mass Destruction from their tiny skulls in the Health Center. I'm waiting on bated breath for the moment I can separate my food in a compartmentalized plastic tray. And I can't lie, I'm slightly excited about taking on The Man this summer. Mission Team '07, we shall overcome! Do yo thang. Make kids happy. Fin.
So, faithful reader, the Onion stops here. I'll attempt to update every so often, but don't expect the stream of retarded banter you've been accustomed to. After all, I don't think I'll be able to save many stolen Google images on the camp computers.
You're all excellent. Thanks for putting up with me. Until August, cherished fan.
Later days,
MLA
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