December 21, 2006

Moore Sick

Dearest reader, I regret that in my late bustle and hurry I have not written to you of the many things that have passed in my life these last days. Many great projects and papers, journeys and visitations, battles and yes, even foods have been eaten since I last wrote. And it is of these I wish to enlighten you.
My first semester at Notre Dame is done, and the three classes in which I was enrolled each supplied a project, informative paper, and a presentation. In addition, 2 of them featured finals, one of which might justly be called unrighteous. A high-speed autonomous robot, a three-dimensional model generator, and a "small files file system" were my results. I leave their details as an exercise to the reader.
Having disengaged myself of these, I set my course to Texas, even to the city of Houston. There I pursued one key goal, the visiting of beautiful Sharon. She is doing well, and (as of tonight) has completed her training at a very large oil drilling company. She has also bought her first car (a Suzuki Grand Vitara) for use getting to and from the various oil rigs in the Southern US. As I am sure you are aware, dear reader, she was amazing and wonderful to see again.
It was also my deep joy to spend my evenings in the care of a certain "The Mom", and hang out with the gracious Vitembs. There were, as again I am sure my reader is aware, gracious, amusing, and at in the late hours I often returned, downright hilarious. Be forewarned, one of my gracious hosts has a vicious kick, but is otherwise very sweet. (Yes Ardith, you were well represented.)
Upon my sorrowful return to Indiana from Texas (NO, do not take this out of context), I was overjoyed to be with my entire family, including my sister-in-law Tiffany and niece Violet. You should be aware, dear reader, that my niece is the cutest infant yet born of woman.
However, as you may be aware, something is rotten in the state of Denmark. Specifically, I have been taken ill with a nefarious stomach affliction of unknown origin or ends. It has... how shall I say this... deprived me of that which gives life its meaning, leaving me empty and hungry, yet unable to satisfy the desire for sustenance. It is truly a wicked plague, striking where I am most vulnerable. Beware, good reader, and see to it that you avoid this same fate, lest hopelessness overtake you and you weep at the sight of good food.
It is in this state that I write to you, kind listener, and seek your aid. If you have any kind words, any cheerful encouragement, any uplifting quips to raise the spirit and move the mind from thoughts of hungered gloom, please share them. And do not speak of those nameless things I crave, yet must not indulge.

Posted by Moore at 08:21 PM