I know one thing for sure: I do not belong in Davis. Everyone there rides a bike, walks on extremely flat and boring ground, and looks virtually the same. Not to mention that everywhere you go on the UC Davis campus, you still somehow end up downwind from cattle, proven by the ever so pervasive stench of manure. What a freakishly weird town. I bet you can milk cows for class credit there. I know, gross overgeneralizations abound in this post. But, shouldn’t we be entitled to a few? I’ll allow myself 3 a month, maybe 4 if I’m sick and need to bitch (like right now).
SIDENOTE: I’ve been writing three alternative first chapters to my memoir (for my Biography/Memoir writing class), and surprisingly, it’s a lot harder than I expected. All of a sudden every little thing in my life has taken on added significance (been thinking about devoting a chapter to my laundry bag. Just kidding), and yet I can’t find the right words to render it into a worthy narrative. In other words, I can’t make my life sound interesting. I’m such a bore. I bet no one’s even reading this right now, that’s how dull I am. I’m gonna crawl back into my hole and nurse my weak immune system.