Having officially ended my sophomore year at the University of Michigan, and I can now safely say something which I’ve “hinted” at a number of times throughout the year: this year was horrible. And I don’t just mean any “damn, that class was hard” horrible, I mean the kind of “horrible” you come to define when your entire family dies from a nuclear explosion, yet somehow you survive with an illness which slowly makes every hair of your body turn into acid and slowly creep down into your organs, taking years to properly decay, but with a pain that increased two-fold every hour until the day you die. That kind of horrible; minus the physical pain, but with all the mental anguish.

Seriously, if I could offer you only one tip for the future, sunscreen would be itI would say that, other than your first year where you don’t really have a choice, do not ever choose a roommate if you even moderately dislike him/her. I didn’t really know my roommate this year all that well (nor did I choose him, I kind of got forced into the situation), but I knew I didn’t like the guy. He reminds me of my biological dad, and I hate him; therefore, if someone reminds me of him, I’m more likely to jump up and down angrily and punch things at the thought than I am to want to give gifts. Unless they’re gifts of pain. Throughout the year, I can think of about three, maybe four, situations where I didn’t have the urge to punch him in the face (an urge that I only acted on once, I’m proud to say). And of this near-handful of situations, I think there was only a single instance where I wasn’t drunk or high. He was a horrible person, a typical unintelligent, nerdy, completely awkward, egomaniacal elitist, and I’m thinking of going back to religion just so that I can just pray that he ends up a homeless bum who can only get off by killing a pack of puppies. Then I remember that God doesn’t generally do things like that for his followers and I decide to stay the way I am.

I did see Mitch Hedberg, Stephen Lynch, Lucky Boys Confusion, and Reel Big Fish live, and they were good. Very good.

I did not fall in love, I did not even go any “hot dates,” and I hardly met anyone that caught my attention at all. Well, I should probably clear up a slight stipulation to that second point, as I did go on a sort of “date.” Though, by that, I essentially mean that I went out to dinner with an ex-girlfriend, thought about another girl the entire time, and listened to an hour or so of what may have been the most painful conversation ever; at one point, I seriously considered calling my mom, then having her wait a few minutes and then call my cell phone to feign an emergency (I actually spelled “immature” the first time, never had a written Freudian slip) so that I would be forced to leave. Then I came back, and made a ridiculously spicy dish for myself (We were at Mongolian Barbeque) so that I wouldn’t have to talk so much since the food made my brain melt. I could clarify the last point on that initial list as well, but… well, no.

Classes were actually one of the year’s high points. I took an excellent class in Creative Writing (English 223), that was absolutely painful through the first half of the semester, but took a nice turn when we got the story-writing half of the class. I wrote three stories (A Brown-Haired Girl, Jack and Jill, and Retribution), which received massive praise and lifted my self-confidence for a few seconds each. Which is no mild feat, mind you. I also took a class in the literature of Chicago, which I really enjoyed. Last semester, I ended with three B’s and a C; this semester, I’m thinking about 2 A’s and a C. Then I get to take classes all spring, summer, and fall. And winter too, but that’s far away. And cold.

This is also the year that I managed to be completely unproductive when I wasn’t doing homework. Last year I still programmed on the side, but the amount that I did was definitely reduced from the stuff I did in High School, this year I had a week or two where I was really adamant about working on a programming project, but that’s about it. I don’t really think it’s that I enjoy it any less than I did in High School, but by the time I’m done doing all my homework (which I still do the bare minimum of), I don’t feel like reading and thinking a lot, I just feel like gaming, hanging out with my friends, or working out. Speaking of gaming, my Counter-Strike clan is doing TWL, and we’re doing pretty well. And speaking of working out, I’ve lost about 10-15 pounds in the last month or so, and have been running five-six days a week, and lifting just as many. I feel so lazy by taking the week off while I’m home (mostly because I have no idea where a gym is that I can use; it’s not a big place), makes kitty cry.

One thing I really hope for this summer, and I do so love summer, is that my “romantic” life gets a bit of a boost. It’s really mostly my fault, since I occasionally see instances where I should do the flirting thing, or the introducing myself thing, but I just don’t. I’ve become almost too shy for my own good since I’ve gotten to college, and I simply can’t get out of this funk. If I’m introduced to a girl by my friend, or someone brings them over, I can act normally, but for some reason I just can’t break my own shackles of introversion when it comes to parties, classrooms, or what have you.

Summary:
Best Band: Sister Hazel.
Best Song: Howie Day - Collide.
Best Movie: The Boondock Saints
Best TV Show: House.
Best Games: Counter-Strike: Source, God of War, Halo 2, and Warcraft 3: The Frozen Throne.