The Gauntlet staff had a dinner meeting last night. The first half of the meeting went really well. Kris (the Editor) told everyone what he felt that they were doing well, and what they were doing not so well at. Pretty much everything is going ok, with the exception of people making booby traps, people fooling around with the fire extinguisher, and people blowing up pop bottles with dry ice. Oh yeah, don't forget shooting people in the eye with rubber bands and licking the microwave plate. (I dislike using the microwave because the inside of it is so nasty.)

Kris is very worried about getting sued. Myke things that if you like the microwave plate and die from food poisoning it's your own darn fault. I agree with Myke, it is your own darn fault. Lawyers agree with Kris. If you lick the microwave plate and die from food poisoning, your parents can sue the office for not doing anything to stop it. I agree with both of them. A line has to be drawn somewhere to mitigate the liability of the paper.

Anyway, I have to come up with a system of archiving the photos by January, but hopefully I'll get it done before then.

I had the 2nd funniest dream ever the other day. Mom and I were in some grand stands watching the Queen do something. Mom was going to takes some pictures, but I said don't bother. I went down to the corner of the stands and started taking pictures. The Queen was about to get into the driver's side of a pick-up truck to scoot over for the driver to get in after her. As she was getting in, her foot accidentally hit the accelerator and the truck starts to zoom away with the Queen all by herself half in the truck. Somehow she manages to get into the truck, but she doesn't know how to drive because she has had chauffeurs all her life. The truck careens out of control speeding up and slowing down, as she travels in a circle around the bleachers. I shoot tons of amazing pics, and I'm thinking to myself, "I'm going to make tons of money! These pics are amazing and nobody else is shooting them!" Anyway the Queen made about five laps of the bleachers and managed to stop or slow down enough that her body guards could get into the truck to stop it for her.