I work for my dad, for fuck's sake. Why, for instance, does this totally cute girl i know**, who wears a totally normal 6 elsewhere, have to struggle to pack dat ass into a nine or even a godforsaken ELEVEN if she tries to slum it at Charlotte Russe? I know that your clothes are all cut for tiny, slim-hipped-to-hipless, barely-breasted preteens, and mine are made for most women past puberty. Oh, and this goes for you, too, Renee. But I can't for the life of me remember??? Can you not tell me? Anyway.... you can see why it turned into a lengthy drive! I kept forgetting to email my author and now that there's only a week's time before the project is due, I figured it was probably a lost cause. Now, I stay up that late all the time, but this is a 54-year-old famous guy we're talking about. On top of all of that, I can't even imagine how this will affect the guys, or if they will get to keep their chapter, or if they will lose their charter or what. Why cant it be the person who does it all the time? What I look for in a guy is just someone who can understand me and loves me in spite of my flaws. Cry in the night of the angel For their light will never shine With their hearts so full of sorrow Muddy waters all around The curtain falls for helpless souls How they suffer swept aside And the raging streams are flowing with so little hope inside Angels crying Can't take no more Angels dying capture their fall Try to see this misery your future is not what you wished it to be So try to fly, the answer lies in the angry darkened skies You just keep on standing in these fields all your life You sow the seeds that never grow No harvest comes such a strain to feed the few Still you're waiting, it's in vain... The next day, Saturday, I woke up early and came to Stony Brook to look at the dorm situation with my mom!