Smoking, flying, and too many words.
I told Janna about a few things last night that I hope she never repeats to my brother. I'm starting to hope that they get married or something. Three and a half years is a long time for a couple of kids to be together, isn't it? She feels more like a frister (friend/sister) now, and thus our conversation last night over McFlurries and cigarellos.
Another strange thing: The more time that passes since Amy quit smoking, the more I want to take it up. I guess it's possible that I'm addicted to the second hand smoke because all I want to do is smoke clove cigarettes and those really nice cognac cigars from Sheffield and Sons.
I get to take my first plane ride on Christmas Eve. I'm stoked to actually fly! The whole problem was that I've been so nervous about driving down with our bald all-season Tourings after the accident last winter, and the in-laws were getting more and more into the idea of tickets because they're on vacation and full of rum already. Again, alcohol, my buddy in righting the world's wrongs. Haha. So now I get to have salty little peanuts and sit uncomfortably in compact little rows next to a bunch of smelly jerks. But who cares? It's my first time. No longer going to be a plane virgin.
I'm fucking bored with reading. I've read so much Greek tradgedy in the last few days I want to stick a hairpin in my eyes. I don't mind the poetry so much, but I've already read Midsummer Night's Dream and Death of a Salesman and it just feels repetitious. Oh well, it's just this and mad amounts of grammar and phonetics to study for linguistics. Two exams to go, that is all.
Another strange thing: The more time that passes since Amy quit smoking, the more I want to take it up. I guess it's possible that I'm addicted to the second hand smoke because all I want to do is smoke clove cigarettes and those really nice cognac cigars from Sheffield and Sons.
I get to take my first plane ride on Christmas Eve. I'm stoked to actually fly! The whole problem was that I've been so nervous about driving down with our bald all-season Tourings after the accident last winter, and the in-laws were getting more and more into the idea of tickets because they're on vacation and full of rum already. Again, alcohol, my buddy in righting the world's wrongs. Haha. So now I get to have salty little peanuts and sit uncomfortably in compact little rows next to a bunch of smelly jerks. But who cares? It's my first time. No longer going to be a plane virgin.
I'm fucking bored with reading. I've read so much Greek tradgedy in the last few days I want to stick a hairpin in my eyes. I don't mind the poetry so much, but I've already read Midsummer Night's Dream and Death of a Salesman and it just feels repetitious. Oh well, it's just this and mad amounts of grammar and phonetics to study for linguistics. Two exams to go, that is all.