Larson, Graham and Jenna just called. That was mint. Apparently they literally have nothing better to do in Brainerd than lie about and call me. And, as I noted, I usually attempt to be the voice of restraint; my presence would, if anything, make Brainerd even tamer.

I finally went climbing today, much to the joy of Dungeon Master, who's been bugging me to go for months now. Q, Crazy Ed's youthful-looking 22-year-old friend, was also there; today marked the second time I've talked to him —ever— but he's pretty cool. I didn't do as much climbing as I should've, but I'll still be really sore tomorrow.

Today is Matt's birthday. You'll recall, Dear Reader, that Matt is the cool one in my family, and coincidentally enough, he's also my slightly-younger brother.

And so it goes. I ate dinner with Jamie, until The Vain Man came. I was going over this hypothetical conversation with him in my head:

The Vain Man: I don't understand it, I've never done anything to you. What could you possibly dislike about me?

And here I'm torn. I feel like a bad person, and undoubtedly I am, but here are my two possible responses to What could you possibly dislike about me?:

Our Bold Hero: I'm sorry, it's nothing specific, it's just a feeling I get from you, something that inexplicably rubs me the wrong way; I know you're really a good person.

or

Our Bold Hero: Everything.

The second is too blunt, and the first too apologetic and untrue. It kind of bothers me that I dislike someone this much. Also, it bothers me that I'd give The Vain Man a hypothetical voice so completely removed from his real personality; he'd never ask anything even remotely like this hypothetical question, yet there he is, asking anyways.

Enough about The Vain Man. At lunch I sat with, at one point, the entire Waste Land poetry-reading group. And Jamie, again. And Dungeon Master. That was interesting, for the dramatic combinations of people alone.