After what I will now term "Hell Week", there is finally some relief. There is this festival called Dally in the Alley. It is unavoidable. If you live on my street, you must go. Even if you don't go, it's outside your freaking window. Resistance is futile.

A little about school first. Although I am only scheduled for 4 classes, I basically have 7. Three of my classes have labs, which makes that much more to remember.

All of my classes except Criminalistics are first year classes. This means that I am attending classes with people at least 5 years younger than me. Let me tell you it shows. Example: my Chemistry quiz section. It meets at 8:30AM. This is an admittedly GODAWFUL EARLY CLASS TIME! No one is arguing that. But, even I (night owl extrodinaire) managed to put on new clothes. Here's my advice, cutsie freshman chickies: PJ's are not cute! They are sloppy! You look like the pig that you are! More advice to the over dressed freshman chickies: Look, honey, you don't need to curl your hair at 8 AM. You also don't need to put on lace up knee high boots and a plaid miniskirt. You are not a punk. Punks do not bathe. Nor do they attend chemistry quiz sections.

On to the relief from this crazy shiznit. After I hauled my booty home from work, I was inticed out the front door by the sounds of a gigantic block party going on in my street. You see, I live in Detroit, and every year around this time they block off a couple of our streets and have a party. There are booths, stages, food, drink and people. Tonight Leah and I wandered around until we found the electronic stage. We must have danced for at least two hours straight! Highlights include:

*Watching the crazy gay dude with ballet practice slippers, a mesh jersey and short tight pants dance. I don't think I need to go on much more...

*Realizing that every guy I think is hot is gay. I really like thin, tall, dark haired guys. There are some exceptions, but this is my basic type. It just so happens that this describes a typical gay man around here...sigh...

*Realizing that the guys you really want to come up and dance with you....won't. The only guys that will come up and dance with you uninvited, are either old, gross, perverted, drunk or on a dare. The cute ones are always in their own world, where dancing like a robot is the language of love.

So stress has been partially relieved...till tomorrow.