My night ended on a sour note: I've never hated to listen to JEW, but when it's played on Queer101, I just can't stand it.

We are all encased in a moving box, cruising down the highway at a record 2 miles per hour. And overhead there is lightning that streaks the sky like spider veins. But we are alone in this box, attempting to scrape by alive while we stare at the object to our right. It too was once a box like ours, except the mangled metal wreck looks like nothing more than a black crumpled piece of paper. But the four of us sit, gazing up at the sky, surrounded by the hazy shade of night, trekking back home from O'Hare.