I was always one to fear the Labor Day. School had just started, my family wasn�t going anywhere except maybe to the back yard for a "picnic", and all the good talk shows were pre-empted for that damn telethon.

I officially embrace the Labor Day, an end to this endless summer after high school. Sure, school has just started, but there was no backyard picnic this year. Instead, I threw some clothes and other essentials in my bag and hit the interstate for three amazing days in the Smoky Mountains.

You know you�re with good people when you can stretch a five and a half hour car trip to eight hours (note: excessive beverage consumption may result in unpredictable bladder activity), all the while jamming to Jack Johnson and Barenaked Ladies.

And the one thing I forgot I always loved about Labor Day was that I could sleep in just a little bit later than I have been. Nine o'clock may not qualify as 'sleeping late' where you're from, but it was good enough for me. It was a treat to decide in the shower what I wanted for breakfast and have it in front of me on the table not twenty minutes later (Western omelet the first day, French toast the second).

It was the kind of weekend where I put aside my aversion to all things outdoors (tell it, Sarah) and discovered that hiking doesn�t really suck all that bad, and hey, once you get to the top, you can see five states. We actually could see maybe two states, but it�s that fog that gives the Smoky Mountains their name. And for all my big talk about not getting along with Mother Nature, I am a sucker for bodies of water both large and small. Creeks are especially nice when they�re nestled in a forgotten crevice of the forest, waiting to be rediscovered.

The best part about all the physical activity was that after it was over, there was nothing else on the docket. There were no errands to be run, no e-mails to answer, no entries to write. It was a lazy, leisurely time...not a care in the world, you know? We rented movies. We got pizza. We forgot to tell them to eighty-six the jalapenos. Oops. We swam in the dark, which is the only way to swim. It was nice to be able to relax.

The second day of the trip involved even less physical activity (yay!). We were two hours into a Real TV marathon on Spike TV (what, I'm going to go away for the weekend to somewhere that doesn't have cable? That's crazy talk.) when I discovered the keychain remote for the SUV (don't e-mail me). What's a carefree boy to do but start punching buttons? It�s a habit I�ve never grown out of, and it continues to haunt me to this day, because when I pushed the 'unlock' button, the TV shut off. None of the buttons turned it back on.

That�s right. The power was out. Again. Granted, it was a different part of the country, but for a few minutes I worried that I was wholly responsible for knocking out the electricity to the entire complex. It turned out that a tree had fallen on some power lines, but it mattered in runs neither long nor short. It was an insignificant little Sunday in a tiny Tennessee town. We had plenty to drink and there was a nice breeze blowing in off the pool. We sat around and shot the shit until sundown. It was the best afternoon in recent memory.

So it was a great weekend. I wrote in my journal. I got to know my friends a little better. I got to stuff my face like there was no tomorrow, or perhaps like all I'd have to eat upon my return was Ramen, cereal, and hamburgers containing questionable mayonnaise. Would it surprise you that sometimes I forget to eat when I'm in the dorms?

I'm eating though, for real, Mom. I talked to her on the phone last night and she was really concerned that I was malnourished. The kids at Past and Future Restaurant Job all said I looked great, thank you very much.

I'm back now, but not really. I left a part of me behind and I'll have to return for it sometime. I've decided that, despite some unfortunate experiences during my youth (y'all know how much fun family car trips are), I really do like to travel. And I think I'm going to have to do a lot more of it.

In the meantime, class. E-mail. Websites. Reading. Writing. Arithmetic. You've heard it all before and you'll hear it all again. I got the rejuvenating mini-vacation that I needed though, so I'm ready to go another few rounds. It won't be long, though, before I have to steal away again and kick back for a weekend. Chillin': do what you love.

Someone got here by searching for: "prison stripes" Reading: Dolly: My Life and Other Unfinished Business. Let's just say there was a severe lack of reading material at the condo. I didn't read much of it, though, I swear. Listening to: Dave Matthews. John Mayer. Sarah McLachlan. Ben Folds. Cake. The Gourds. And plenty of other shit I can�t remember right now. It was a total of fifteen hours in the car, so we got some mileage out of the CD player. And tonight, Rachel has turned me on to Michael Buble. Mmm. Watching: P.S. Your Cat is Dead. Steve Guttenburg = blah, but the story was all right. You can�t really go wrong with TLA. They�re good people. Oh, and it's Tuesday, so The O.C. You know how I feel about Adam Brody, right? Drinking: Bullfrogs (mix 'em anywhere) and Bacardi Razz. Good stuff, in other words. The telethon is a lot more watchable when you're drunk, FYI. Eating: Among other things, Surf & Turf, which is always, always good, and sushi for the very first time. It was actually not bad.