"so maybe I should be some kind of laundry line, hang their things on me and I will swing 'em dry"
If my mom were ever to complain about my indecisiveness, she could only have herself to blame.
So I ask Lauren about our Mardi Gras plans. She said we'd be driving around a lot, and that the balcony on Bourbon would just be a place to see the action, not a place to crash. I'm not sure how comfortable I'm going to be with walking around in unfamiliar New Orleans during Mardi Gras... so I was contemplating coming home.
There's a flight at 7:10pm Friday and I could be home in time to catch the last few minutes of Dollhouse. Lauren says this works with her plans (providing she can get off work) and would not have a problem taking me to the airport. Megan said she could possibly work as a backup to that, and might get me to NOLA way early-- in which case, mom tells me I should try and be on Standby. Meaning, I let them konw when my flight is but if a spot opens up on an earlier flight, then I can hop on.
So I think I'm mostly settled, and providing things go as planned in the next 24-48 hours, I'm going to be coming into H-Town for a few days, a welcome break from Louisiana. Proceed to call mom and get all sorts of plans defenestrated in a matter of moments. Arguments for and against (because, of course, she doesn't pick just one side and make this argument easy) are, "Well, I thought you wanted to experience Mardi Gras, since you were over there," and "Well, maybe you could just do something Friday night and get a flight Saturday?" "Well, if you come here, then maybe you can take somebody down to Galveston and get some beads thrown at you down there," etc. etc. Then she gets mad and tells me to just make up my mind. But don't leave the flight plan too late. But let her know what I'm going to do in the next couple days. And that she doesn't care what I do as long as my schoolwork gets done. It's just that things aren't going to be really fantastically fun until I'm 21, because there's streets and places you can't go unless you're of age, and I know that I'll have at least 3 more chances to do it when I'm here, you know?
*sigh*
FRUSTRATION. I HAS IT.
So now I'm right and properly unsure of what I should do. I'm sure I'll have fun if I stick around and hang with Lauren. I'm also sure that it would be very nice to come home for a couple days before Hell Month gets into swing. (Oh, yes. March is going to fucking suck.) As Devyn put it as a comment to my Facebook status, it's quite the conundrum.
Other than that... today was uneventful. Watched some Survivorman, reminding me why I love Les Stroud so much more than Bear whats-is-face, parts of Rush Hour 2, which never fails to make me LOL and some House. (Watching House needs no explanation.)
I feel minorly productive; I finally organized my on-wall-calendar, color coded and all. I'm caught up for classes tomorrow, but I need to do laundry and read Last of the Mohicans, something I continually procrastinate from. Which is bad. I'm going to go finish A Doll House by Ibsen and then force myself to read Cooper.
No, self, you don't need to transcribe your French notes into that new spiral right now, that can wait until after Cooper. So can laundry. And cleaning. And looking desperately around the room for something else to do. SELF. ORGANIZING YOUR PANDORA STATIONS IS NOT VITAL. STOP IT. AND DON'T EVEN THINK ABOUT OPENING MINESWEEPER.
Don't Do Sadness, Spring Awakening
So I ask Lauren about our Mardi Gras plans. She said we'd be driving around a lot, and that the balcony on Bourbon would just be a place to see the action, not a place to crash. I'm not sure how comfortable I'm going to be with walking around in unfamiliar New Orleans during Mardi Gras... so I was contemplating coming home.
There's a flight at 7:10pm Friday and I could be home in time to catch the last few minutes of Dollhouse. Lauren says this works with her plans (providing she can get off work) and would not have a problem taking me to the airport. Megan said she could possibly work as a backup to that, and might get me to NOLA way early-- in which case, mom tells me I should try and be on Standby. Meaning, I let them konw when my flight is but if a spot opens up on an earlier flight, then I can hop on.
So I think I'm mostly settled, and providing things go as planned in the next 24-48 hours, I'm going to be coming into H-Town for a few days, a welcome break from Louisiana. Proceed to call mom and get all sorts of plans defenestrated in a matter of moments. Arguments for and against (because, of course, she doesn't pick just one side and make this argument easy) are, "Well, I thought you wanted to experience Mardi Gras, since you were over there," and "Well, maybe you could just do something Friday night and get a flight Saturday?" "Well, if you come here, then maybe you can take somebody down to Galveston and get some beads thrown at you down there," etc. etc. Then she gets mad and tells me to just make up my mind. But don't leave the flight plan too late. But let her know what I'm going to do in the next couple days. And that she doesn't care what I do as long as my schoolwork gets done. It's just that things aren't going to be really fantastically fun until I'm 21, because there's streets and places you can't go unless you're of age, and I know that I'll have at least 3 more chances to do it when I'm here, you know?
*sigh*
FRUSTRATION. I HAS IT.
So now I'm right and properly unsure of what I should do. I'm sure I'll have fun if I stick around and hang with Lauren. I'm also sure that it would be very nice to come home for a couple days before Hell Month gets into swing. (Oh, yes. March is going to fucking suck.) As Devyn put it as a comment to my Facebook status, it's quite the conundrum.
Other than that... today was uneventful. Watched some Survivorman, reminding me why I love Les Stroud so much more than Bear whats-is-face, parts of Rush Hour 2, which never fails to make me LOL and some House. (Watching House needs no explanation.)
I feel minorly productive; I finally organized my on-wall-calendar, color coded and all. I'm caught up for classes tomorrow, but I need to do laundry and read Last of the Mohicans, something I continually procrastinate from. Which is bad. I'm going to go finish A Doll House by Ibsen and then force myself to read Cooper.
No, self, you don't need to transcribe your French notes into that new spiral right now, that can wait until after Cooper. So can laundry. And cleaning. And looking desperately around the room for something else to do. SELF. ORGANIZING YOUR PANDORA STATIONS IS NOT VITAL. STOP IT. AND DON'T EVEN THINK ABOUT OPENING MINESWEEPER.
Don't Do Sadness, Spring Awakening