I’m growing up and I’m making decisions. Some wiser than others. I’ve decided I am going to bring my camera tomorrow and take pictures of the McGregor room where I have lived for the past week. I’ve decided I’m going to stay two more hours and head to Biltmore where I will celebrate seven hours and Cinco de mayo with a margarita. And on the way home, burdened with my kilo-boulder shoulderbag hanging by threads, probably after stopping at Little Johns to actually eat some substantial food, I will stop on the Rotunda steps and see if I can’t spotlight some streakers.
Refusing to buy a flashlight or heaven forbid one of those Lawnie-spotlights, I will further define “spotlighting” as “direct attention to, intense scrutiny or public attention”. Having seen streakers numerous times, it won’t be something I could miss tonight and never see again. But I highly doubt I won’t see anyone, because it’s exam time and stressed out college kids do some crazy stuff.
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