I am posessing of
It's summer, I'm in two summer classes. Six weeks, and a lot of work; I don't know how I keep fooling myself into thinking I'm starting over, when the same routine keeps on popping up. Anyway, there's no way out of hard work, and at least in such a condensed session there isn't much time for procrastinating.
Chicago is generally beautiful. I'm two blocks from the lake and I've been biking 12+ miles a day, often along the lakeshore (although, in the interest of full disclosure, I haven't gone anywhere today and I also ate a pint of ice cream) which, between the hours of 11am and 6pm, reeks of sunscreen and babies. I like it, it reminds me of California. The sun is interspersed with these thunderstorms and fog, and rain, during warmish weather, which reminds me of Florida. The wind never stops (I'm told it does when you get further from the lake, but loath am I to enter Wicker Park) although some days it slows down to almost nothing. Weather.com is my favorite place: "wind: 10 to 15 mph SSW"
It's a comics class, and a Social Science class called MADNESS. It's not really in all caps but I always write it that way, and I find it difficult during discussion not to shout out, "This is MADNESS", cause I don't wanna be that guy. Anyway comics class is officially called Comics, Narrative, Material Exploration Or Some Shit I Don't Remember and it's in the Fibers department. I've been wanting to take it for quite some time now. Quite exciting.
It's been about a year since the beginning of insane-o-summer, and the nostalgia pangs are starting. I think nostalgia, outside of moderation, can become a disease, and I've been sick since the second grade. This summer promises (well, doesn't promise, but maybe leaves an insinuating note on the fridge while out fetching broccoli for the stir-fry) to be less exciting by eons. I can't even use length measurements, I have to delve into the time vocabulary. That's ok though, right? God, it's me, Lyra, why do I always feel so old when I'm so young (note: old, not mature - I ain't no Michelle Tea). There is so much more time to come.
Gillian left her giant jungle tree in my care over the summer. I'm all nervous it's not getting enough humidity and keep fretting about getting a spray bottle. I should just get a spray bottle already.
Mandy, damn her to hell, adopted two kittens recently and enlisted my help to keep them from dying (what most people refer to as taking care of them). Now I love them, and I never see them because they live with her mom and I can think of no better course of action than severing all emotional ties, even though every time I enlist my feelings in that task I see Charlie and Sebastian's little faces all fuzzy and asleep in my arms. It's really depressing. I hate animals.
Chicago is generally beautiful. I'm two blocks from the lake and I've been biking 12+ miles a day, often along the lakeshore (although, in the interest of full disclosure, I haven't gone anywhere today and I also ate a pint of ice cream) which, between the hours of 11am and 6pm, reeks of sunscreen and babies. I like it, it reminds me of California. The sun is interspersed with these thunderstorms and fog, and rain, during warmish weather, which reminds me of Florida. The wind never stops (I'm told it does when you get further from the lake, but loath am I to enter Wicker Park) although some days it slows down to almost nothing. Weather.com is my favorite place: "wind: 10 to 15 mph SSW"
It's a comics class, and a Social Science class called MADNESS. It's not really in all caps but I always write it that way, and I find it difficult during discussion not to shout out, "This is MADNESS", cause I don't wanna be that guy. Anyway comics class is officially called Comics, Narrative, Material Exploration Or Some Shit I Don't Remember and it's in the Fibers department. I've been wanting to take it for quite some time now. Quite exciting.
It's been about a year since the beginning of insane-o-summer, and the nostalgia pangs are starting. I think nostalgia, outside of moderation, can become a disease, and I've been sick since the second grade. This summer promises (well, doesn't promise, but maybe leaves an insinuating note on the fridge while out fetching broccoli for the stir-fry) to be less exciting by eons. I can't even use length measurements, I have to delve into the time vocabulary. That's ok though, right? God, it's me, Lyra, why do I always feel so old when I'm so young (note: old, not mature - I ain't no Michelle Tea). There is so much more time to come.
Gillian left her giant jungle tree in my care over the summer. I'm all nervous it's not getting enough humidity and keep fretting about getting a spray bottle. I should just get a spray bottle already.
Mandy, damn her to hell, adopted two kittens recently and enlisted my help to keep them from dying (what most people refer to as taking care of them). Now I love them, and I never see them because they live with her mom and I can think of no better course of action than severing all emotional ties, even though every time I enlist my feelings in that task I see Charlie and Sebastian's little faces all fuzzy and asleep in my arms. It's really depressing. I hate animals.