To kick things off today, I'd like to begin by welcoming two new readers! Amy and Jamil, two new comrades of mine at Gonzaga have recently been following the exciting happenings in my life by reading this blog. So welcome, we here at Martha inc. are glad to have you on board. 

    Speaking of exciting happenings, I was chowing down on a pb sanny at the COG (look it up) when all of the sudden, a floppy haired, green eyed god breezed by me. As I breathed in his musky, slightly sweaty, all around MANLY scent, my observant roommate leaned into me and whispered "That's Matt Bouldin" YEEEOWZA! There has been one time in my life when I have been more starstruck and that was at Conor Shearer's graduation where I purposely bulldozed right through Joey Harrington (sigh) and his girlfriend (hiss.)  I still say that was one of the best moments of my short life. Anywho, aside from my glorious baller sighting, my experience at the cog was below my standards. Why? I'll tell you. It was too noisy. How in the hell is an individual expected to enjoy their food when the buzzing in their ears is too loud to even hear their friends? Not to mention all the germs that are flying out of people's yappers, landing directly on your food. Ah, college life. One additional complaint about the food services here at Gonzaga: I went to the sandwich bar for aforementioned pb on wheat. As I grabbed the loaf marked "whole wheat" I fleetingly thought about how proud Char would be of my healthy choice. But wait! I pulled out two slices, instead of seeing the expected brown, I saw only white. With closer inspection, I saw minuscule flakes of something that could barely pass for wheat.  I realize they are trying to cut cost corners with every turn, but with the 30 thousand + tuition student are paying, one would think they could splurge for some Oraweat. Also, the food there has given me (and a few others according to my sources) horrible digestion.

I have had one class so far and the teacher, excuse me, PROFESSOR, seems nice enough. Full on beard, haltingly stops mid-sentence, unable to stand in one spot for more than a second, gives off a nervous energy, and horribly enough, he reminds me of this guy who played a child molester in law and order svu.  

The longer I am here, the more I realize the importance of "comfort music." For me, this is purely country. Mainly Kenny, Tim, and Taylor. With a little Keith thrown in.  It takes me back to my big bedroom, with it's big bed and single occupant. Not that I am complaining. Ok, I am. Gotta go, indigestion in full force.

Unsettlingly yours,

 Martha