i'd like to introduce you now to isabell iam

The trip taken Saturday by myself, Julian, Joshua, and Roberta was the most intense and disturbing, yet also the most hopeful and enlightening, of any I've taken in quite some time. It's frankly quite difficult to truly imagine exactly how one's brain would function at its default setting, unless, of course, you hit the "reset" button yourself with a strong enough dose. It may sound farcical to say that I've physically observed ideas and relationships between people and things, saw the endless spectrum of color that can originate from a single ball-point pen, carried on deep primal conversations with a cat, and harmonized myself with the notes produced by the communication between nature and man, but... it's all perfectly plausible to a hardcore naturalist, a Zen Buddhist, or someone who experiments with hallucinogens. I absolutely adore being human, with all our wonderful social conventions and fabricated silly little responsibilities, but to be the animal we all truly are, to exist as a part of the world rather than simply affecting it, is one of the most beautiful and necessary things a human being can experience.

During the end of last week, Julian, Stephan, Becca, and Mike took a short Spring Break vacation to Columbus, Georgia, involving everything from hotel room drinking to wild African mammals reaching into car windows. During such, I myself spent time drinking and singing karaoke to Earth, Wind, & Fire's "September" at Mary's with Stacy, Greg, Hartwell, and Amber, or dancing at MJQ with Patryk, Madeline, Hartwell (again), Andrew, and Kara. I brought Andrew over to meet Joshua and Roberta and the three of us, plus a friend of Andrew's, smoked and Wiied the night away.

Due to steady working conditions every evening and schooling during the day, Julian and I have only really been able to do much together on the weekends. He wants to be able to do more during the week, but quite honestly, I really enjoy the time I have to myself during the day. And although Julian keeps encouraging me to write during my time alone, is it really so bad that I'd much rather read? Right now, more than ever (and especially following Saturday), I feel that this is a time for inspiration for me, not generation. If I focus too much on my own production now, I'll have no ideas for writing in the future. Whether it's through Sarah Vowell's memoir Assassination Vacation, Harry Frankfurt's philosophical thesis On Bullshit, or The Intellectual Devotional, I've been absorbing more knowledge lately than I've been expounding, and I could not be happier with it. And let's face it, instead of learning about the odd history of presidential assassinations or the complexity of classical music, I could be watching VH1.

Here's a little of our Spring Break experience: