Apostrophic Chunder

I haven't done any kegstands or ogled any nubiles in skimpy string bikinis. I don't have a sunburn, a hangover, damaged hotel rooms to pay for, or any misdemeanors. I remember the names of everyone I've met this week. The exploits of a stereotypical college spring breaker are something I only have a basic vicarious television-skewed perspective on, and I'm okay with that. I hate crowds, especially inebriated ones, whether they have shirts on or not. The reason Spring Break is so great this year is that I'm graduating from community college in May, so I'll be qualified to be an assistant manager at Bennigan's, or sell you a new shirt. If I was you I wouldn't trust me about the style of the shirt, and if it means making a sale, I will tell you that it looks terrific. I'm in Atlanta, which was recently struck by a tornado and has been wracked with a drought for quite some time. I'm visiting with family that I haven't seen much of for ages, and that is great. My uncle is a partner in a Landscape Architecture firm here, and he's set up meetings for me with Architecture firms large and small, Interior Designers, and faculty from Architecture schools. I wish that I had done this sooner, but then I suppose I might have missed the cues and experiences that pulled me in this direction. I miss my peeps back home, and I can't wait to see them again and regale them with tales of crashing the older, well established dining clubs of the genteel south. Tonight we're off to the Brick Store to enjoy fish and chips and Belgian beer. Clarification: No bricks will be purchased, and the fish and chips are not all you can eat.