whistles go woooooooo

time test

Hmmm. So there's only a few days left before I embark on my journey to Tennessee for about three weeks, all in all. I think it's funny that I feel I've had a good weekend, based on the fact that I actually managed to get some sleep. Thursday was full of GameCube. Friday was full of Fri Night 80's, which is good, and fallen sub, which was bad. Yes, I cried like a baby. A baby beefalo. I don't care. Saturday was full of 28 Days Later, which scared the pants off of me like, um, a Duran Duran song? Saturday also brought about a haircut, which pleases me greatly. Sunday, today, gave a good practice to listen to and make notes on, a fun trip to Quiznos, and, best of all, the most restful nap EVAR as well as cookie cake. I am a happy camper. I am wide awake. I have to be at work at nine tomorrow morning.

One final rant, since I have said this to most everyone anyway: without spoiling anything, 28 Days Later has to do with throwing up blood. While this was shocking to watch, it wasn't so much for me, since I have done it before. Watching it in a movie, however, made me wonder how my mom managed to see me doing exactly what happens in this movie without freaking out, fainting, or whatever. All I remember is her perkily saying, "OK, we need to go to the emergency room." If I saw a thirteen-year-old doing that, I would certainly think something life-threatening was going on. And...ok, so maybe there was. Still, I came out all right. And my mother's poise was amazing. I asked her about that on the phone tonight, and she simply said that she was being a mother, and therefore not freaking out. Cool.

INFECTED!!!

I remember being about seven, and reading The Vampire Diaries for the first time. Elena lived in a pre-Civil War house, or at least part of it was, and the series often mentioned the old, wavery glass in the windows of the old portion of the house.

It was many years before I actually saw such glass for myself, and more than that before I actually lived in a house with it. Now, every time I walk down the front stairs and my view of the outside world is bent and distorted, I smile to myself.

There's a good reason why my archives have decided to stop working, I think. I think archives shouldn't be allowed. I went back to another blog and reread stuff I hadn't in a long time, and it got me brooding. What if I hadn't made the decisions I did when I did? What if I had done otherwise? Why do I seem to have a talent for inflicting the maximum amount of pain?

Also, I think I was more interesting when I was conflicted.

How could anyone have possibly not recognized her writing? She even makes the same exact comments about men's shirtcuffs and watches and such. Not to mention the locale.

I went to 7-11 to buy bread. And a donut, because I'm weak. Also, on a related note, bagels suck the next day. Anyway, I hate crossing that road by myself.

I'm looking at my two Domo-Kuns and thinking to myself, "Big D, little d, what begins with D?" However, I can't remember what actually does begin with D. B was barber baby bubbles and a bumblebee, though.

No wonder I like Delerium so much. Jesus. "Um"?

Thus, I have returned from faraway lands.

I celebrated with the usual; a trip to Rocky's. Nice to return to such mundane things; sometimes the predictable is best. I'm exhausted after the past two weeks.

My film documenting the fun, desperation and debauchery won't be ready til 3 AM. Dammit.

I'm attempting to de-smokify with warm vanilla sugar body spray. Emily has indeed taught me some tricks these past few weeks.

I hope Nola, Beth, and Richard enjoy reading their thank-you cards as much as I enjoyed writing them.

I almost forgot to thank Richard for that... rousing... birthday present this morning.

Ruff!

Nome.

Not name, but Nome.

What a bleary, worn out two bit town. I don't know that I'll ever see the likes of this town again.

But perhaps it's better that way.

An interesting way to spend a birthday, foraging amongst the relics of a grizzled, self-destructed proto-culture. Did they think they would be remembered this way? Did they presume to be remembered at all? I imagine they did. Everyone does. What a silly notion.

Unless, of course... you're immortal. Then it wouldn't be silly at all, would it?

Mikhail, Vasiliy and Johanna took off today, it's hard to believe that they actually lasted so long in the mountains anyway. The scenery is SO beautiful out here, and the views are quite astonishing. Unfortunately, the weather is not so propitious. You'd figure natives would be more hardy, but I suppose the urban life weakens us all. The remaining quartet of mountaineers are very sad, yet understanding to see the rookies head home. None of us had such contumacious dispositions even a year ago. The Ural range took care of that disability, however!

These Caucasus mountains, on the other side of the coin (and continent, I suppose), are monsters. If mountain ranges were felines, I would feel safe with my cute, cuddly Neroda Mountain sleeping in my very own bed. The feral Elbrus, on the other hand, would be suitable only for Sigfried and Roy. Still, one yearns to visit the menagerie of that ambiguous pair, no? Tamara, Kieran, Ilya and I shall endeavour to do so! More news as it happens. Fondest wishes to my readers!