8/25/04 1:13am Some snapshots for the road... another whirlwind walking tour of Albany, this time for Flannery and Tony. Tony, clad in his acrylic anarchy hat and The Cheat t-shirt, cautiously approached the All Saints Cathedral, widely reputed to be haunted. The streetlights dimmed and then failed as he drew closer to the building, looking behind his shoulder for any otherworldly passers-by. He peered in through the pitch-black glass doorways, got spooked, and turned back towards the old 3-1. A day later... the three of us, after some hours of walking around Boston, decided to climb the monument at Bunker Hill. The two hundred ninety-five stone steps spiraled above and below us as we pulled ourselves up the humid column, which was even more oppressive at the top. The view was barely worth it. Another ten minutes and a lot of spaghetti-legging brought us back down to the bottom, hearts pounding, but the grass was soft and there was a good breeze blowing over Bunker Hill that day, the three of us just collapsed there under a tree, and all was right with the world. An agoraphobia-inspiring afternoon up in Saratoga was erased by a much more welcoming spiral column of soft ice cream from some drive-up joint on the wrong side of the Mohawk, purchased for me with Meghan Towle's track winnings. I said goodbye to the whole Saratoga issue by the middle of the next week, and in a refreshing blur of trees and rocks and good conversation even farther north, I looked out over Lake George, spotted a hawk gliding down through the haze across the foothills of the Adirondacks, stalked a frog or three in a pool of runoff that had collected along the trail, and demanded that the world be more receptive towards Kant and Aristotle. Mary, for her part, was more than up to the challenge of hiking and philosophizing. Somewhere in my last week in Albany, a trip downtown for a haircut was punctuated by news that the Wellington Hotel was beginning to collapse from the top down. My home situation began to eerily mirror the situation, but it was effectively too late for me... I began to evacuate my room, Kennedy called for one last hurrah, Capture the Flag concluded in a fantastic, fog-saturated torrent of footsteps and shouts, the floodlights were going down and Mike Campbell was juking to and fro in the Garden, he lost the flag just in time for Mark to retrieve it, I was scrambling along with the other defenders, Mark was tagged, our guard was down, and La Fantasma swooped in at the perfect second to complete the relay back to the neutral zone. As it turned out, we simply hadn't seen it all until that night. The guy at the Fountain treated us like the Muppets that we are once again, but the pizza and the jukebox picks were spot-on. The lights were low and the pitcher was empty when we officiated a wedding of some sort, meanwhile Mark was bleeding profusely, the Thomas sisters looked on incredulously as King Zonca bantered away, and I was just happy to be there. The clouds of this summer's perpetual rain finally parted for three perfect days on the Cape, capped off only hours ago with carrot cake and cannoli at Sarah Dunn's birthday gathering. I saw the towers of the Plaza for one last summer shot on the way into the valley, the sun was heading down behind them, and that was it. My bags are packed, and I'm blowing this popsicle stand as soon as I wake up in the morning. Thusly, this ridiculous summer, the Summer of the Clif Bar, the summer when I stopped irrationally hating and began to earnestly discover the Northway, the summer of lulls and challenges and rest and action, this incredible crescendo into the final act of my college years, this damned summer finally came to a close. Buffalo, I'm on my way back. Here goes nothing.

8/12/04 9:40pm I've got about a week and a half left of summer break, but my brain is already jolting itself into Canisius mode. This process has been catalyzed by a handful of phenomena, but most immediately by the recent upgrade of our web-based e-mail system, GriffMail. The new GriffMail client features a pretty elaborate and powerful calendar function that I have already taken the liberty of programming my life into. In addition, the e-mail redesign has spurred me into sending messages to a number of my professors and friends about various topics, including but not limited to my thesis, the next FF7 race, the Gospel of Mark course, and the next couple of Little Theatre shows. I've also been talking to Buffalo people more often (just got off the phone with Byron), and to top it all off, Tony and Flann are staying here in Albany tomorrow night. Suffice it to say that I am, once again, officially psyched about going back to school. Hell, I've already started to get a jump on my Greek homework... after all, the time is always right for doing some biblical exegesis!
My time in Albany is wrapping up pretty nicely, and I only have one day left at each of my two jobs. Capture the Flag was rained out this evening, which was too bad, but I've had more than my fair share of running around the Empire State Plaza in the past couple of weeks. My lunch hour downtown is easily one of the best parts of my day... I've spent the time doing everything from checking out obscure lunch counters on Lark Street to collapsing in the sunlight on "Woodhenge" to going up to the top of the Corning Tower and identifying all of Albany's buildings to visitors from downstate (and, of course, advancing my dream of becoming a tour guide). Kennedy came back into town last weekend with tales of sympatric speciation, sliding down a hill on a tarp while covered in dish soap, and his other assorted (mis)adventures in Wisconsin. I've still got a few adventures of my own to look forward to before heading back to Buffalo, too... probably hitting Boston with Tony on Saturday, then there's a potential trip up to Glens Falls on Wednesday to tackle a mountain with Mary, and, finally, one last pilgrimage into Massachusetts for a second dose of Cape Cod, this time hopefully with the full half-dozen-strong complement of Bards. It took a full three months, but I think that I've finally kicked this summer into actualizing its form (or, if you're not feeling quite that Aristotelian, I finally found a way to make this summer into something that I'm satisfied with). Sometimes, all it takes is a little bit of Moxie and pizazz.
The only other order of business is that, at long last, the people over at The Atlantic Online have sold out to the old profit motive. One of the best, most professional, and most excellent free publications on the Web is now for registered magazine subscribers only, in an effort to "make The Atlantic Online a more valuable resource for Atlantic subscribers." If that's not from The Man, I'm not sure what is. As it was, I wasn't planning on subscribing to the Atlantic until I reached the age of about twenty-six, and I might just have to push that even further back now. As a consequence to this episode of blatant corporate dicketry, I have replaced my Atlantic sidebar button with a link to a website that has slowly begun to take over my life: the brilliant and ever-evolving Wikipedia. Somehow, the ability to read decent articles on everything from the Erie Canal to the Rubik's Cube to gentian root to Klein bottles to The Simpsons to Hadrian's Wall in rapid succession just does something for me that, up until just recently, was sorely lacking in my life. Wikipedia, you are one class act.

8/4/04 10:54pm Well, really what I'd like to be is a tour guide. I want to walk with people and show them things that they haven't seen, and I want to listen to their stories, too. I want to run around the Plaza all night, climb the trees, look in the governor's backyard, introduce people to stuffed grape leaves, and discuss historical events, and I don't want to call it all off on account of the rain. A little rain never hurt anybody, except for the Wicked Witch of the West, and she is a fictional character.

7/30/04 9:40am It's funny how far a new pair of shoelaces and a sunny day can take a person when the circumstances are right for it. According to my grandmother, we've just come through the rainiest summer since 1871, and a local weatherman corroborated that notion, calling it the "seventh rainiest July on record," for whatever that's worth. This July has easily been the most meteorologically depressing month since June 2000, which fell at the tail end of my junior year of high school. The random mid-July cold that I contracted over my weekend in Buffalo has persisted to this day, and it managed to team up with the weather, my awkward work schedule, and my floundering social life to create a weird midsummer vortex of confusion, irritation, and exhaustion. I bought new shoelaces yesterday, though, and the sun actually came out for a full day... apparently that's all it takes to get a man back on track. At the beginning of the week I was in Rochester for my state job, so I got to see Jason and hang out for a bit at Millennium, which is easily the biggest nerd store in Upstate New York. The past week or so has also afforded me the opportunity to hang out with Mary Conner, who came down from Glens Falls to see Fiddler, Billy and his customary summer girlfriend, who were in from Boston for the weekend, Jenny O'Connell and my brother Mike at Heather Wajda's nifty gathering in Voorheesville, the irrepressible Tom Owens, Meghan Towle for a poorly timed walk along the Hudson after Alive at Five let out, and the usual crowd for Capture the Flag at the Plaza, which was voted among the list of top things to do for under ten dollars in the Capital Region by Metroland readers. I guess the long and short of it is that this summer, while it has been bizarre and opressive and particularly confusing, is starting to show its silver lining, which is absolutely fine by me.

7/20/04 2:30pm This has been a thoroughly weird summer and I'm kind of glad that there's only a month left of it. Right now, I'm trapped in a cubicle, not even facing a window. It's pretty dark in here, and I'm still fighting to break free from a mid-July cold that I mysteriously and abruptly contracted over the weekend... it was quite a weekend. I ducked out of work early on Friday, hit the dentist and then the highway. I didn't roll up the windows until Rochester, and I didn't get out of the car until I was back at Canisius, ready to begin a weekend wayfarer's glimpse of the life that I'm going to be returning to in five weeks. I hung out with a good group of folks, hit just about every quality food joint in Buffalo, bought a brownie from a girl who might have been the love of my life (I decided, after some consideration, against going back and talking to her), and the entire weekend was maliciously accented by a sinus headache crescendo that resulted in a more-or-less drained and sour demeanor for the duration. It was a shame, too, because despite the way I was feeling physically, I was really very happy to be out there again, and I wish that I could have shown that a little bit more. The drive back was rainy, and little else. The weekend spit me out into this cubicle, and I've decided pretty firmly that I'm not going to work in an office unless I'm the boss, and I'm not going to work for the State unless I'm elected governor. I don't think that these demands are too unreasonable, really. On the whole, life in a New York State office is a pretty melancholy situation. To be honest, I feel like the only thing I'm taking away from this job is a paycheck, and even in terms of life experience, it pales in comparison to my ridiculous (yet ridiculously fun?) post at SPAC. Most of the problem, I think, stems from the State's blatant misallocation of, well, me. Yeah. I've been personally misallocated. Anyway, I digress. I really need to spend more time outside.

7/11/04 12:29am My eyes hurt. Maybe I've been on the computer too much today, but I think I've just been seeing too much in general recently. Mostly, I remember lots of colors. A couple of weeks ago, I took the opportunity to kneel down in a patch of strawberries, somewhere in the hills on the other side of the river. My knees were down in the dirt, a raw and sweltering breeze was cutting across the fields, there was berry juice on my jeans, and I was thoroughly satisfied with the whole situation. Some days later, actually, hours after the end of another day, I had just finished a thirteen-and-a-half hour double shift up at SPAC; I wandered down the lawn in the darkness, put my backside down on the grass, and looked up through the crowd, smoke, and jazz to the night sky above. My eyes met the Big Dipper, high up there in the Saratoga indigo. A week later, we all stole away at four in the morning for the Cape; we quietly left our city in the hours before dawn, and I looked out from the Patroon Island Bridge to see a full moon striking the Hudson, brilliantly illuminating the most perfectly clear morning. Cape Cod brought with it the familiar oak-and-pine canopy over my head, low tide sunsets on the bay, and the remainder of a full spectrum of experiences that got me right where it counts.
I finally finished To Kill A Mockingbird, a book which I should have read when Mr. Green assigned it in the eighth grade. I couldn't have appreciated it then, and I'm really glad that I waited until now to read it. Some of the lines in the book, mostly things that Scout thinks and says, had me actually laughing out loud, but I think that the humor would have been completely lost on me seven years ago. Suffice it to say that Harper Lee definitely deserved the Pulitzer for that one.
I've got six weeks in Albany now before I pack it all up and ship it back for the exciting conclusion of my Buffalo years. I had thought that these six weeks were going to be filled with random misadventures and assorted school-related projects, however, while I was on the Cape, a full-time job opportunity with the State just sort of materialized for me. I was thoroughly irritated at first, but it looks like I'm just going to have to bite the bullet and work for these last six weeks, pull down some money for the remainder of my Canisius tuition bill, and push my school projects to the sidelines. Hopefully, the weekends will still afford me the opportunity to do a little bit of traveling, which I guess I'll just have to schedule around my SPAC appearances. This three month break has not yet ceased to frustrate and amaze me, and the crescendo of summertime ridiculousness shows no sign of letting up anytime soon. To infinity and beyond, I suppose...

6/30/04 2:48am Two thumbs way, way up for Spider-Man 2. Seriously.

6/21/04 11:28pm A couple of nights ago, a bunch of us were playing hide-and-go-seek in the cop memorial at the Plaza. I ended up in a tree, and stayed there for a good half hour without moving or really making any sort of sound. I spent most of the time just listening for things... listening for any sign of the "It" people coming to get me, listening to the wind rustling through the leaves, listening to Mark, up in another tree somewhere, singing the original Spider-Man theme song, and all the while I was in a really primal kind of mode, scanning out through the leaves for people moving around and simultaneously planning and re-planning every possible escape route through the branches. The whole thing was broken in an instant when Rocco spotted me from not too far down below. My instincts took over, I pretty much blacked out, and I actually went up through the branches, using a route that I had only vaguely considered, and ended up on top of the wall of the memorial, well out of anyone's reach. I guess the point of all this is that I felt connected, for the first time in way too long, to something really original and natural and groovy about myself and about the world around me, and I really want more of it. I guess I need to start climbing more trees.
I ditched the supermarket deal in favor of a concession stand gig up at SPAC. This weekend I worked back-to-back Phish concerts, which was pretty extremely cool... I sold many a pretzel to many a Phan with the munchies, heard quite a bit of good music (including "Wading in the Velvet Sea," one of my favorites), and inhaled more secondhand smoke in two days than I have in the past two years. These life-experience merits, in combination with the good time that I had in general, far outweighed the negatives (namely, working as a corporate cog alongside legions of teenage girls from Burnt Hills and other such suburban locales). Well, I suppose every day of one's life just is another half-moon cookie of double-edged sugary goodness.
My last night at the supermarket, I was straightening the Scottie tissue boxes when a song from George Harrison's solo career came on the radio. It had a neat, folkish, A Mighty Wind-type feel to it, and I really dug the central lyric, "If you don't know where you're going, any road'll take you there." That line hit an important chord with me, I guess, because it roughly characterizes my experience of this summer so far. Moreover, I talked to Big Pat on the phone today, which served as a timely reminder of a couple things: first, I have a lot to look forward to when I get back for the final lap in Buffalo in August, and second, in an effort to groove with my "twentysomething crisis," I ought to take a step back and evaluate what's going on in my life as a whole. I might as well run an evaluation like that at a time such as this one, that is, a time in which I don't have much going on. So, this lazy summer is moving forward, I'm going to embrace it for better or for worse... I think I'll come out a little poorer monetarily, but otherwise a little bit better overall. Cheers.

6/15/04 5:16pm Deciding not to go to sleep after work on Monday morning, I high-tailed it to Boston with James Keenan and my brother. It was early in the morning and I was running on no sleep, but adventures like that one are the kind that I live for. The first thing I did when I got to town was stop by Billy's summer pad in Brighton. His roommate, Gus, came down to the foyer in his pajamas and reported that he hadn't seen Billy in three days; presumably, his cell phone had died, because he had last heard from Billy on Saturday night, live from "a hot tub with a bunch of girls in it." Thoroughly satisfied with Gus' report and assuming that Billy was recovering somewhere from the time of his life, we headed into town, left James' van at Wentworth, met some random Northeastern student for lunch, then embarked on an eight hour hike through Boston, which included James' requisite stop at the local Hollywood Video, my requisite stop at the duck pond in Boston Commons, Mike's requisite overpriced strawberry smoothie at Quincy Market, and then the theatre district, Newbury Street, the financial district, the aquarium, contemplating taking a high-speed ferry to Provincetown, North Station, Fleet Center, the Science Museum, the North End, Charlestown, and Bunker Hill. The vast majority of the day was spent on foot, including the hike from the Prudential Center all the way to the Bunker Hill monument, which was downright awesome. I really got a feel for the pulse of the city, we ate at a little Italian joint in the North End for dinner, and to top it off, the three of us were featured on a trolley tour. From the sidewalk, we could hear the tour guide refer to me as an "Emerson kid," and as for Mike and James, "Boston College; they're too clean-cut." Outstanding. When I got asked for money by random men on the street, my stock response became, "Sorry, I'm still mourning for Reagan." In sum, it was a pretty fantastic one-day sojourn, I was up for twenty-five hours straight and I collapsed in the van to begin the trip home completely happy and completely exhausted. My full-time job prospects are still looking heinously shaky this summer, but for the first time, that really doesn't matter much to me. I'm just going to live the way I was meant to live and do the things I was meant to do, and everything else, I think, will just pan out in the way it needs to. I'm not gonna fight the tide on this one.

6/13/04 10:00pm So despite all of the bad things that it's doing to my life and the fact that it pays terribly, I'm actually really liking my job as a nighttime box mover. When I come home in the morning, I feel really great, and don't usually want to just go to sleep. This morning when I came home, I felt so good that I went to church and didn't get to bed until after noon... hilarious. This week should be cool... I might go to Boston, New York City, Buffalo, all of the above, or none of the above, because after tonight I don't have to work until Thursday (that is, if I don't find a better job before then). I could really get used to this mundane manual labor stuff, really I could. The job at the supermarket is kind of analogous to Sisyphus' eternal plight in Tartarus. At the end of every work shift, the store looks great, and the shelves are all perfect walls of products waiting to be mindlessly consumed by the inane locust swarm that is suburban America. When I go back in to work, everything I've worked for has been destroyed, and for eight hours I get to do it all over again. It sounds terrible, but it actually isn't. It's hilarious and ironic and strange and wonderful. Well, maybe I'm over-romanticizing things, but I guess that's only a natural response when one sacrifices their circadian rhythm and the better part of their social life to a Corporation that doesn't care about them anyway. Cheers.

6/11/04 8:20am I'm totally wired, it's a beautiful Friday morning, I'd love to go out and start my day. The problem is that my day is over, I've already worked eight hours and had three square meals and captured the flag and all of that. I have to go to bed, but I don't want to. I want to be normal again, I want to be where the goddamn people are. I want to bust out into my beautiful city, smile at everyone I meet, order myself a burrito from Bombers, treat myself to a movie at the Spectrum, make some phone calls and get myself a day job. That's really what I want to do. The reality of it, though, is that I've been up since yesterday, I'm physically exhausted, and it's time to hit the pillow and go out, as Zonk would say, "out like a ton of bricks." Man alive.

6/9/04 11:57pm Another rough week, complicated by my job at the supermarket, which is quickly ripping my life apart. On work days, I have to sleep until around three or four in the afternoon so that I can go in running on all eight cylinders when work starts at eleven. When I'm awake in the evening, I'm not really inclined to do a whole lot, citing the need to "save my energy for work," which is a pretty legitimate need. On off days, I've been mostly inclined to play Civilization 2 with my brother, which really isn't good for anybody because it can eat hours at a time without warning. Meanwhile, I feel physically, emotionally, and spiritually drained. This is really not good. To complicate matters, my leads for getting a better job have been falling through the cracks quicker than I can catch up with them. The only one of my friends that I've seen since maybe Friday night has been Zonca, and here it is at the end of a Wednesday, which has consistently been the worst day of every week I've been home so far, and wow, I'm starting to lose it. Hopefully things will start looking up. Tomorrow, I'm going to try and not let the fact that I have to go into work when everyone else is going to bed dominate my mood for the entire day. Tomorrow, I'm not going to sit at home and play Civ. Tomorrow, I'm going to see what I can do about charging myself out of this rut, because I have a lot that I want to get done this summer, and it seems like it's high time that I started showing some initiative.

6/4/04 4:20pm So this week could be appropriately likened to a descent into and an escape from a huge emotional chasm, starring Wednesday as rock bottom. The reality of my unemployment had sunk in so deeply by Wednesday that I pretty much stopped moving altogether, pondering vaguely and ironically the major points of John Paul II's encyclical Laborem Exercens and mulling over the absurdity of being born into a random caste. My depression was compounded significantly by rumblings that the draft might be coming back next year, so a wholesale consideration of everything from my life's direction to the validity of the nation-state to ever-rising gas prices seemed to be necessary. The icing on the cake? I wandered into the living room to find Mike slumped on the couch watching a PBS documentary, or as we call it in our house, "getting smart." I sat down and caught just enough of the show to learn that at any moment and with no real warning, the entire earth could be annihilated by a burst of gamma rays from a spontaneous hypernova elsewhere in the galaxy. Swell. Things got better pretty quickly, though, after the reception of some incoming job offers, a lot of good weather, Capture the Flag, and a midnight showing of Cuaron's Prisoner of Azkaban, which I enjoyed pretty thoroughly. Today I basically started working at Price Chopper in a position that can only be described as Shenmue-esque, but this morning was just orientation, so I have no idea what it's actually going to be like yet. As a matter of fact, I have no idea if I'm even going to keep the job for more than about three days, because I may have other opportunities knocking and, like most people, I prefer to do my sleeping at night. Time will tell, though, and this little occupational experiment can only end hilariously for all involved. Stay tuned!

5/31/04 1:23am Today was quick but nice, and culminated in my cleaning up the table in a Texas Hold'em match against Billy, Tom, Zonk, and Jon, undoubtedly inspired by the recently-completed World Series of Poker. I think the only thing that was missing was Dave France in a dealer's visor. Megh came over for organic chemistry help, but I was stumped; I had never heard of an acyloin condensation, and neither had Zonk. So summer is really upon us, when I wake up it'll be Memorial Day, and I honestly have got to nail down some source of income pretty soon. I also need to pull together a concrete summer reading list, having finished The Da Vinci Code in a pretty short amount of time. Meh. I need to get back on the old wagon of productivity that I've heard so much about...

5/29/04 6:36pm Just swallowed a cherry pit. My summer job with ARAMARK has been summarily voted down by the mighty legal arm of the State of New York, so my status has slid from "hopeful and unemployed" to "hopelessly unemployed." I don't seem to be minding, though, because I've been spending money on everything from rice pudding to Magic cards like it's my job, riding my bike like it's nobody's business, and hanging out with my friends like it's going out of style. So I guess if I had one of those "blog-by-numbers" LiveJournal accounts, my current mood would be "suntanned, smiling, and ominously undirected." I guess it's a good thing I don't have one of those, then. Oh yeah, now would be a good time to note that I linked a bunch of blogs kept by my friends; you can hit them up on the old sidebar. It's been gorgeous in Albany for the last few days, and tonight it looks like we're heading down to the Jericho to see two awful action movies (Troy and Van Helsing), drive-in style. I can hardly contain my summertime giddyness.

5/25/04 3:31pm Alright, so I love this city to death. If there's one thing that has come out of the more or less complete freedom that this summer has afforded me thus far, it's been an excellent chance to get out and enjoy springtime in Albany. I've played a whole lot of ultimate, Capture the Flag at the Plaza, and I've gone out on my bike a bunch of times. Yesterday was a pretty good day, I chilled with Mark quite a bit and we rode down around the pond, all the way over to Westland Hills and then pretty much the whole length of Lincoln and back down Allen, it was bright and real and leafy and my legs were moving and Mark was close behind me reciting a Shakespeare monologue, lots of people were outside doing their thing, and it all just felt really good. Today was great too, Sarah Dunn made raspberry and chocolate chip pancakes for Megh and I and then we went downtown and walked around for a good long while, all of the state workers were out on the Plaza and there was a field trip full of kids marching around and the whole time I was thinking, "you know what, this is just amazing." I got all of my grades back when I came home, and I'm extremely pleased with how everything turned out. So despite my unemployment, which may indeed be ending soon enough, I am having a really great time, missing some good people all over the country, but at the same time, home is right where I want to be. Oh yeah, I also want to be on the Colonial House show on PBS, really really really bad. It would kill me probably, but I would still like it.

5/19/04 11:31pm It's taken about three days, but the reality of my unemployment this summer managed to hit me full force today, and I responded by sleeping in and practicing the Hebrew alphabet. I've spent the last few days out hunting for a job, playing frisbee, eating ice cream, and running booze on a random Internet text-game. My life is suddenly simple (almost excessively simple) and good, but I'm really concerned about falling into the trap that I fell into two summers ago... I really, really need to focus on staying productive. Must find a job. So tomorrow I'm headed to Utica and Syracuse with my parents, then it's back home for the return of Capture the Flag at the Plaza. So in short, my summer is looking mighty fine and mighty undetermined for the moment, but it's all good. I know what I have to do.

5/15/04 1:49am Already back in Albany in full force. I battled a Mohawk Valley lightning storm, a broken gas gauge, and random construction zones to get back into town for John Antonio's last concert at Hackett, Mike and Zonk and Jenny and I hit Gateway for cheesecake, I tried getting some of the Hebrew alphabet into my head as I fell asleep with a soft wind coming in through my bedroom window. I woke up this morning to a gorgeous day, started working on my room but ended up going on a bike ride with my mom, Zonk rolled up in the afternoon, we caught part of his sister's softball game and picked up Kennedy and Jenny and went off to the Greek Festival with Owens and my family. Loukomathes were like fifty cents more this year, because apparently the honey went up in price. I reject that excuse. I bought them anyway, we met up with Megh randomly, hung out back at the house of Bard, and the highlight of the evening I think was frisbee over at St. Catherine's in the dark, but Jon got this amazing fiber-optic light frisbee for his birthday, so twilight frisbee is definitely going to be this summer's first great sensation. Everything is peachy keen here except for the whole unemployment bit, but I guess you just have to deal with one thing at a time.