It's Sunday. I just picked Ayako up from the airport, and have returned home to drink. I wish to light Mario on fire, as he is a spiteful little Italian man who is hellbent on ruining my good time. Video games should be relaxing, and Mr. Mario is stressing me out.
I somehow managed to throw out my back this evening while driving. Actually, it probably had nothing to do with driving so much as repeatedly attempting somewhat intermediate yoga poses without stretching this week. It just really locked up as I was getting out of my car tonight. It burns, yow yow yow...
In four days, I leave for St. Louis. I am in supreme anticipation of this trip. I know it's going to be awesome. I mean, just the fact that I don't have to show up to work for 11 days straight is amazing. But I'm sitting here worrying over superficial things like my skin, my tummy and my wardrobe as if I'm about to go to my 10 year high school reunion. Though seeing as I have no intention of showing my face at such an event, I kind of feel this takes the place of one. I'm about to see all of my college friends, most of whom I haven't gotten to hang out with in 3 or 4 years. We've all kept in touch via Myspace, but I'm still feeling apprehensive. It should be simple, and probably will be once I'm there. I'm making it complicated for no real reason outside of my own nervousness. But *yarf*.
And now I've gone and broken my little spine.