Packages, Chicken Wings, and BBQ

That gets the people's attention.

If you are planning to send me a letter to my school address, please don't. I sincerely doubt it'll get here by Wednesday, my last full day in Boston 'til September. If you've already sent something, we can only pray.

So my parents sent me this massive package in an effort to have something for me on the day of my birth. The contents were as follows - one pair of pants...one loaf of cinnamon bread...one 12-pack of RC. The problem here is...well, I only have a week left here. I think I can get through the RC if I up the caffeine intake, which isn't a big problem 'cause I may be staying up all night tonight, and I'm DEFINITELY staying up all night on the 3rd before my 9 AM flight on the 4th as my sheets will be packed away. But the bread...see, I have a toaster here, but it's kind of ass. And I have no butter. So I guess I can eat it plain, which is fine and all, I just don't see it happening rapidly.

Anyway, it was a very strange thing to receive. Oh, and my brother sent me, as he so rightfully proclaimed, the worst card ever. It's fantastically bad, I'll see if I can get it posted.

As for the BBQ section of the title, the RD at the building hosted a BBQ today for all the residents. See, how cool is this place? Gonna miss it big time.

As for the chicken wings...so the dining hall folk hosted an end-of-the-semester buffet that, among other things (including a kiddy pool full of ice cream), featured chicken wings. So my buddy Mike just kept eating them, and finally someone asks "Mike, how many did you eat?" He counted 37, and then immediately said "GOTTA GO FOR 50!" Which he did and then somehow RAN back to the dorms. Props to him. Anyway, we got the entire rear of the dining hall applauding his accomplishment.

Schedule for the weekend...tonight, United 93 (probably a review as well, as my ass'll be sexiled); tomorrow, dinner with the crew and then party at Adam's (which, including myself, could be attended by as many as three non-drinkers, which is something); Sunday, Dad's here, we're packing EVERYTHING. Gonna be intense.