Oh, Things.

Willow the cat likes to sit on my lap/hands while I type. She's cute and looks a bit like an egg. And when she runs across the street, she looks like a hamster.

The Patriots are winning by a slim margin, which is a weird thing to know, and to write, because I don't actually care.

Aubrey is trying to convince me to have a glass of wine, but I'm declining in lieu of last night's beer fest at Cato's. That was a lot of IPA. This weekend has been a bit binge-y, in general. But that's ok.

West African dance is amazing to watch. I saw Mama Naomi's dance company, Diamono Couras, perform today. It was an AileyCamp reunion of sorts, and it was sweet to see the campers. They were a mix of excited and teenage blase. It was so great to see Sidney perform---he was so incredibly difficult this summer, such a pained, complicated, manipulative kid, and to see him performing with the company, reciting such a long spoken word passage---when he couldn't write a sentence in my class, and is so hindered by his literacy---was wonderful. All the kids were screaming his name.

Extreme Home Makeover is unwatchable tonight. I told myself that I need to take a break from consuming news stories about horrible senseless tragedies, because I am fairly obsessed, and it's damaging and disturbing, and the show definitely needs to be part of my boycott. So instead of watching the show about the children whose father was killed in a car crash and whose mother was shot by her abusive boyfriend, I'll watch football. Right.

Willow, it's hard to type when you're sitting here like this.

Dinner is almost ready. Aubrey is making it. I was going to eat with Rachel, Vanessa, and Amanda, but Vanessa's having a rough night. I hate that.

Talking to Kelli made me very nostalgic for Providence---I look forward to visiting, seeing her and everyone else, eating at Nick's and the Fez and Taqueria Pacifica and Hon's and walking around Brown and having awkward interactions with people in the Lit Arts department. And Bloody Marys at Twin Oaks. Yum.