Homecoming weekend is over. Tomorrow is Monday. People keep implying that the past four years were the “best,” and that it’s all downhill from here. My former classmates have gone to New York, to Charlotte, to Uganda. We meet up for beer when we can, we message each other on Facebook. None of us are sure about anything anymore, or so it seems.
Whatever. I’m writing my romance novel and changing the world, one memo at a time.
Natalia A. 
boobies.
Way to ruin the mood Anna, geez. You needs to stay at ze IMCA.
young boyzzzzzz