do something that scares you once a day...

like climbing out of an 8th floor window onto scaffolding at the Gehry-designed Stata Center, separated from 8 floors of thin air by a plank of wood. All in the name of art (or rather, slapdash last minute attempt at photo assignment)

Nothing like a good bit of sweaty palms to make sure you still have a pulse and lust for life.
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Something about the novelty of being able to start living as a functional adult (ie. the prospect of cooking for oneself) is making me oogle wild-eyed everytime I pop into the supermarket 2 mins away from my dorm. Bad for wallet and bad for waistline. Not that I had one to start with, but that's beside the point.