I took down my Team M picture today. I am clearing out this room, little by little. I had the privilege and the pleasure of taking the cut with Evan and Rebecca on Wednesday night. Smoking from a small piece, and watching Evan drive a lime-green Beetle with his knees. We were in a different century, a different world. Nothing existed but the trees and grass and Pink Floyd's Emily. I am glad that I do not take it twice a day, like they do. It was an experience that would lose its poignancy with repetition. There is something about journeys when I am blazed- car rides, train rides, cab rides in the city. I am happy that this year is almost over. I am going home for a visit next weekend, to see Carrie, Chris, and Traver. To pack my life into boxes, and to begin another great purge of my adolescence. I think I got rid of most of my stupid memories over winter break, but I plan on going back with more distance and objectiveness and trying again. Anything that I have not thought of once over the last seven months is going. If I can survive, two hundred miles away, without it, I do not need to keep it. This trip, the packing part, at least, is not really imperative enough that it must be done so soon. It is certainly not important enough to leave campus around six in the morning, catching a train from Union Station around seven-thirty. I just feel like this is something I have to do before summer starts, before Will moves in. I think I just need some time home, with my sisters, and Chris, and Carrie, and Traver. That is why I am going.