The whole week's gone and I haven't been writing in my Journal. So many impressions I'll never really capture for posterity because Jim wants to talk late into the night and I'm too much of a tool to kick his Judas ass out. Or because David just wants to sit. I know his schedule is insane, but he does it to himself, and sometime it annoys me that he can only make time for me when he feels like loafing about.

(IMPORTANT NOTE: David is my brother and far and away the most important person in my life. He's honeslty the thing that worries me most about eventually getting married. My unattractiveness, my recreational sadism, my elitism, these things can be overlooked - if spun properly, they can ever be attractive - but how do I strike a balance between my brother and the woman I'll love? I guess I've just assumed that they'll see each other as rivals - yes, I'm horribly conceited, too - and I don't have a clue in Hell how to keep them from hating each other. I guess I'm just worried that I'll never find a girl with whom time spent will ever be able to hold a candle to time spent with Davidius. As usual, I'm getting ahead of myself.)

This week I met with the Director of Athletics of the University of Michigan. I had an axe to grind, but he tamed me. I think I got snookered, but I also don't think I mind. I saw a car accident while I was home Thursday. I'd just walked out of the dentist's office when I heard the collision. Yeah, I ran back inside and told the receptionist (whose name always escapes me) to call the police, and then I ran to the nearest car to see if the driver was injured, but my very first thought was of how cool the crash looked. It was nice and low-velocity, with a Safari van getting spun around and lifting up into the air, and this black S10 getting driven over the curb into a street sign. (This was in Flint, so all the cars were GM.) It was really neat, if only for a second. Then my lifeguard wits were once again about me and I acted decisively to summon the proper assistance.