dorothy.

Some days I fall into this little "there's no place like home" funk and seriously, all I can think about is how much I miss my friends and family and the great state of Neb. I'm not going to start complaining because A. that's annoying and B. I love the Den, but when you're cool enough not to have plans on a Friday night, like me, a little homesickness isn't altogether unnatural.

Plus, in a week Husker fever starts. And if anyone doubts a Nebraskan's committment to Husker Football, they're complete idiots. During the fall, all normal activity unrelated to football is put on hold while a big red cloud encompasses the state. I've never seen anything like Lincoln on gameday and yes, I'm just as stupid about it as everyone else. And why? Because it's awesome. If you've never been, you couldn't possibly understand. I'm gonna go ahead and admit that I get goosebumps during the Tunnel Walk and have to try rrrreally hard not to cry when the planes fly overheard. That part is a little embarrassing, but whatever. Judge if you will. My mom still tells me I'm cool.

As much as I love it here, there are a few things I could use in my life including, but not limited to:

1. 934-934-934-934. Pool + Fiskaycoke buzzes + Craig's pot roast + Brady's flame-sided scooter + Frank headlining with Shithook at Duffy's + Sardinar's pecs...
2. Sorority rush. There's really nothing like hundreds--strike that, thousands--of screaming freshman girls running down the street in your direction then pummeling you with hugs, tears and thank you's. You're effing welcome we let you in the best house on campus. Now clean the floor. Jussssst kidding...
3. 'Screamer' camp outs. These little social gatherings bring a whole new meaning to TMI. And. I. Love. It. I could use a little recap of Baysoulandlandlandlandlandlandlaaaaaaaand land land right about now. And what I just realized is that there are only a few people who could understand what I just wrote and chances are... they're not reading this.
4. O Street shenanigans. I once watched a girl dressed up in a tiara and sash (bachelorette partayy) stumbling out of The Bar by herself, then playing pinball down the sidewalk before she face-planted, booty-crack exposed, life-in-shambles. And what did passersby do? They walked around her. My friend was kind enough to pick her up and put her back on her heels, but about 20 yards later, she was facedown assup in the bushes. Bless her heart.
5. Walking into my room to find my friend studying for a final with a stiff drink in one hand, hi-liter in the other. By herself. She's my idol. Naturally, I joined in the festivities.

So I guess tonight I'm working the merch table at the Fruit Bats concert... then tomorrow I'm going to their concert. If I'm not BFF with these fools by the end of the weekend, immabe one unhappy camper. At least give me a slap bracelet or something. Glow in the dark, please.