Six days. SIX FRIGGIN' DAYS ...

God, I'm getting so sick of this. There's only six days left until I can be social, have a life, etc. I'm trying to plan where exactly I'm going to go when I finally turn 21. Most likely, my first stop will be all the places that told me no (this means you, random bars in Kansas City!). I will drink myself into a stupor and make them haul my slobbering, almost-passed-out ass out into the street. I might even force myself to projectile vomit all over their bathroom. (Probably not that last one -- I heard they charge you like $25 for that now.) Where I won't go is to the two or three nice, friendly establishments that realized that excluding me because of my age just wasn't right, because I wasn't going to be drinking, and I just wanted to have fun with my friends. A whole new door will open, and I'm ready to run right through it.

This would be the time when I have that J350 class, but it's over for the year. Now THAT'S how a class is supposed to work. Go to lecture for three weeks, have the instructor tell you what to write to produce certain results, then spend the next three weeks developing a Web site, then you're done. I love it. Good stuff.