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The other day I met the guy who was trying to escape from the Reg. He shook my hand so hard I thought my ring was going to sever my middle finger from the rest of my hand. Or, at least that there would be a hole where the stone was digging into the finger's side.

Anyway, I couldn't understand his name. I had to ask for him to repeat it, and I still didn't get it. So, I just pretended that I understood. We met at an Athens party. He doesn't want to go to Athens. I kept trying to talk it up and explain to him what an amazing experience it was for me, but he wouldn't have any of it. I hope he gets over himself. I was thinking how we go through so many experiences waiting for them to be over, anticipating the future instead of relishing in the present and I'm not sure the point. When I tell my mom how busy I am and she says it's almost over it makes me really mad. I may be busy, I may be exhuasted, I may be lonely, but it's what it is and I don't mind. I know I have good days and I have bad days. But, I don't want to ever skip through something, for fear that I'll miss what's around me, just to get to something new. I wonder how much there is that I don't appreciate or don't notice simply because I'm too unhappy with my now--anxiously awaiting the "light" instead of appreciating the path that gets me there.