Oh no, snow.
It's April and there are 6 to 12 inches of snow expected for tomorrow. All I can think about is Bunny, and how the feet of the searchers packed the snow down over his body.
In the past 2 days, over three people have mentioned Bacchanalia in my presence. None of these people had read The Secret History
--
Mom and I went to see Chicago. It was, like the first time, totally amazing. Now I'm going to go and write and do my Spanish homework and learn to be content with the fact that I'm only a fangirl. Right.
Oh, and today as I was studying for the ACTs, I came across the most blatant homosexual subtext that it almost wasn't subtext at all. The reading passage was about a boy named Morgan and his private tutor Pemberton.
The dialogue went something like
What Morgan said at last was said suddenly, irrelevantly, when the moment came, in the middle of a lesson, and consisted of the apparently unfeeling words: "You ought to filter, you know--you really ought."
Pemberton stared. He had learnt enough French slang from Morgan to know that to filter meant to go away. "Why should I do that?"
Morgan pulled a Greek dictionary toward him, to look up a word instead of asking it of Pemberton. "You can't go on like this, you know."
"Like what, my boy?"
"You know they don't pay you up," said Morgan, blushing and turning his leaves.
... HAH.
I need to go now.
In the past 2 days, over three people have mentioned Bacchanalia in my presence. None of these people had read The Secret History
--
Mom and I went to see Chicago. It was, like the first time, totally amazing. Now I'm going to go and write and do my Spanish homework and learn to be content with the fact that I'm only a fangirl. Right.
Oh, and today as I was studying for the ACTs, I came across the most blatant homosexual subtext that it almost wasn't subtext at all. The reading passage was about a boy named Morgan and his private tutor Pemberton.
The dialogue went something like
What Morgan said at last was said suddenly, irrelevantly, when the moment came, in the middle of a lesson, and consisted of the apparently unfeeling words: "You ought to filter, you know--you really ought."
Pemberton stared. He had learnt enough French slang from Morgan to know that to filter meant to go away. "Why should I do that?"
Morgan pulled a Greek dictionary toward him, to look up a word instead of asking it of Pemberton. "You can't go on like this, you know."
"Like what, my boy?"
"You know they don't pay you up," said Morgan, blushing and turning his leaves.
... HAH.
I need to go now.