To the four people who read this, bear with me.

Leslie, my dearest friend since 7th grade, and Caleb came into town for the Wilco show. I made them marginal whiskey-lemonades and exceptional guacamole and we all got pink-shouldered sitting on the back porch, the dull roar of Athens, Ohio on the first near-hot day of the year like the lapping of the tide. But with more woo!s.

I found out that Leslie is scurrying off to Asia for a year, most likely because she does not value my company and wants to be fourteen time zones away from me.

Seriously though, there's absolutely no way I will be able to afford a plane ticket to Korea in the next year to visit her. Secret benefactors of the world? Now is the time to contact me in an old-timey, mysterious way. I'm thinking something sealed with red wax or maybe a map (on parchment paper, obviously) affixed to my front door with a letter opener. Preferably the map leads to a wad of cash in an old patina-ed music box. But those are just suggestions. You're the secret benefactor here, I'm not gonna tell you how to do your job.

I've been creeping along at a slug's pace these past few weeks, a million things to do and not a drop of motivation.

I was always able to dubiously justify past cases of "senioritis". When I was a senior in high school, I was already accepted to college. When I was a senior in college, I was already accepted to grad school. I skipped classes and wasted weekends sans-guilt. But now? I'm so tired of school and isolation that I can hardly bring myself to do the things to get me out of school and isolation.

Coffee used to fix this problem. I keep imagining my brain as a crappy apartment building where the roof is leaking and the hot water is out in the bathroom but the landlord (me) won't return any phone calls.

Sorry, brain, you're gonna have to keep showering at your sister's place until I get all this sorted out.

From my forthcoming etiquette guide, "Cycling in Heels And Other Inadvisable Activities":

On occasion, it becomes prudent in the course of an evening on the town for a young lady of distinction to eat all the pizza in the world.

My journalistic duties took me to this lovely place today. It made me feel a pang of guilt that I will likely depart Athens having left tons of cool, vibrant, cultural stones unturned.

And then I remembered the glory that is riding my bike to Goodale Park on a cloudless summer day and reading on a blanket until I'm sun-dizzy. And then sitting sitting on Ana's porch with a glass of iced tea the size of an oil drum.

And then I felt okay about it.

I made a resolution a couple years ago to avoid talking on my cell phone while holding a cup of to-go coffee, because it's important to me that I not look like an asshole. That's not to say this doesn't still occasionally happen. After all, I am a person who would carry around an IV tree with an espresso drip if I could, and also a person who occasionally receives phone calls.

But this is exactly the reason that I made that silly resolution, cause there I am on the front page of the Messenger, in all my asshole glory.

Also, to anyone who came upon this site by googling "asshole glory", sorry to disappoint.

So I am "in charge" of "planning" a "high school reunion" this year and I have no idea where to even start. In a momentary lapse of judgement, I sent out a corny e-mail en masse via Facebook (I know, I know) to get a feel for people's expectations. Did I secretly want people to say, "naw, let's wait til 2014, I need five more years to become impressive"? Well, yeah. But honestly, after a lot of great responses and a few unexpected ones ("I was in a terrible accident this winter but maybe by this fall I'll be able to walk with the help of a walker!" "Sure, just gotta make sure I can find a sitter!" "Five years? Seriously? I guess I better get a job or kill myself"), I am actually sort of looking forward to it.

Mostly I just felt uncomfortable sending an e-mail to people saying HEY HIGH SCHOOL REMEMBER REMEMBER AWESOME when they are just trying to live their regular lives. That being said, don't people get on Facebook when they are trying not to live their lives, and so they can idly wander through a vacation photo album from that girl who sat next to them in AP Chem?

Also if you are my best friend and your names rhymes with Schmleslie, you are required to go to this thing.