Rain, as with anything, in moderation

So yesterday, the weather forecast was calling for thunderstorms. Since it rained on Sunday night, the forecast wasn't unexpected; I packed my umbrella for Monday, though it was too warm for a jacket.

The morning was fine, and I stayed in the office until five o'clock to earn some extra money. As I left the office, I noticed that the sky was, indeed, very dark, though it hadn't started raining yet.

Ten minutes into my walk, the rain began...

And promptly turned into hail.

My umbrella large enough to protect me only down to the knees, I winced as hail whacked my legs and arms and rainwater soaked into my pants. I dashed for the Country Style on the corner, hiding out as sheets of rain and hail hammered down around us.

After calling my dad to say I'd be late, the rain subsided enough that I decided to venture forth for my bus once more.

The wind picked up again, grabbing my umbrella away from my as rain poured down in a torrent on me. This was only compounded by the assholes on Keele Street driving too close to the curb and treating me to an impromptu shower.

By the time I arrived at the bus station, I had no use for the umbrella save to protect my eyes from the rain. I was, quite literally, completely soaked. Head to foot.

I waited for ten minutes in the bus terminal with two other girls who shared a similar (but slightly less wet) fate. The bus pulled up and we got on... and the rain stopped.

I was treated to sitting on an air-conditioned, windows-open bus while rain trickled down my spine for an hour and a half.

There are... no words... to express... my joy.

A joke. It amuses me.

One night, George W. Bush is tossing restlessly in his White House bed. He awakens to see George Washington standing by him. Bush asks him, "George, what's the best thing I can do to help America?"

"Set an honest and honorable example, just as I did," Washington advises, then fades away.

The next night, Bush is astir again, and sees the ghost of Thomas Jefferson moving through the darkened bedroom. Bush calls out, "Tom, please! What is the best thing I could do to help America?"

"Respect the Constitution, as I did," Jefferson advises, and dims from sight.

The third night sleep is still not in the cards for Bush. He awakes to see the ghost of FDR hovering over his bed. Bush whispers, "Franklin, What is the best thing I could do to help America?"

"Help the less fortunate, just as I did," FDR replies and fades into the mists.

Bush isn't sleeping well the fourth night when he sees another figure moving in the shadows. It is Abraham Lincoln's ghost. " Abe, please, what is the best thing I can do right now, to help America?" Bush pleads.

Abe replies, "Go see a play."

In the Alex News today:

-I signed up for courses and, miraculously, GOT ALL THE ONES I WANTED.

Can you say "four day weekends"? I would, but I'll be sleeping in Fridays and Mondays. :D This comes at the cost of 7.5 hour Tuesdays, but even THOSE don't start until 1 PM, so overall this is a happy Alex.

-That means that I'm in Creative Writing.

Dance!

-I am working on getting registered to vote.

It looks like I'm going to vote NDP, though if I do get to see Paul Martin tomorrow, I may (may) change my mind.

-Now, if only I could get ahold of Serena...

...or Amy, or Dan... geez, guys, where the hell are you? :(