Today the Westboro Baptists came to BU to protest. Apparently a rabbi here said God is a woman so of course they had to drop by our campus during their Boston tour today and tell us all to repent or go to hell (without passing go or collecting our $200). And reminding us all there's no freak like a Jesus freak.



Scariest handful of protesters I've ever seen, hands down. They had a kid -like a ten year old kid- marching around in the cold with a sign that read "Your rabbi is a whore" on one side and "God hates Jews" on the other.

My favorite sign on the sign on the opposition's side was "IMA LETCHU FINISH BUT FRED PHELPS IS THE STUPIDEST MUTHAFUCKA OF ALL TIME." There was another good one that said "GOD HATES SHRIMP."

Of course all this had to go down on World AIDS Day, crazy right wingers have the worst timing. Especially since this years AIDS Day theme is respect and protect. Le sigh.

After a suckass night playing Insomniac Jack's tired tune the fire alarm went off at 7:30 a.m. -or 7:40 depending on who you ask. I'm taking it as proof that god hates fags. Actually just me and the other couple thousand people in my dorm and by god I really mean this chick's microwave that exploded on the second floor. But you know what still loves me? Coffee and that's all that really matters. And free used books (I love my job), those matter too.

Also! I bought my bus ticket from Join the Impact (MA branch) to go down to Washington D.C. for the equality march next week. I then proceeded to almost pee my pants and jump around in excitement because, yeah, sanity lives here.

So we had a guest lecturer at our fair institution today. He cried more than I expected. Granted, I have limited experience at this tender point in my college career, but I personally don't expect lecturers to cry at all. Or show emotion. With the exception of brief shows of righteous indignation toward Republicans, conservatives, fascists and/or mass murderers. It's just how we roll. Srsly.

This guy was not how we roll. It was nice. The lecture was entitled "Children & Other Slippery Miracles, Hawks & Other Delights, Ruminations & Fulminations, Prayers & Poignancy, Jests & Snickering, Observations on the Astounding Mysteries of Women, Notes on Listening as the Greatest Art of All, & Etc Sundry Expostulations on Human Beans as the Most Interesting & Confusing Creatures of All, with Sidelong Jaunts into Basketball, Bruce Springsteen, Excellent Shoes, Essays about Owls, & Other", given by Brian Doyle.

The general upshot: listen to other peoples stories. Collect them, because they're invaluable. No one will ever have that experience again. And recording a significant moment is worth more than the time it takes to type down.

I'm feeling deep. Just be glad I didn't spam your friends list after I went to the WAM Conference.

My mother slammed into a monster Ford Explorer at a toll booth, totaling the front end of her car and rendering it completely un-drivable. Then we took a ride with the nice tow truck man to the middle of butt-fuck nowhere. Took a taxi to Boston, took care of what needed to be taken care of (with the notable exception of moving into my room).

Then we waited on a street corner for my dad to show up. His tacky golden gas guzzler has never looked quite so beautiful as it did yesterday afternoon. We got lost, my parents yelled at each other in car. When got found, we got lost again. We got my stuff and went to BU. My parents yelled at each other in the middle of the street. I moved in. My parents vowed not to speak to each other the rest of the night and went home.

I was safely tucked into bed, sound asleep by 10:30. So far, college has not been the dream I envisioned it as. Go figure.

But now that I'm done complaining I'm going to go get an ice cream sundae. Cheers.