Drugs Are Bad for You, Mm'kay?
1. Ai yai yai...
So Monday night I play D&D with friends, yes? Well, I was sore, what with my elbows, and also my knees and sometimes my back. So on my way out the door I made a quick stop in the bathroom, rummaged around in the family box of medicine and found some painkillers and gulped a couple, then drove down to Josh's house to carpool to Huntington. About halfway there I started feeling kinda groggy, but didn't really think anything of it. I often get sleepy in late afternoon, but I perk up when we start playing. Well, not this time.
Josh drove and I slept all the way to Huntington. When we got there, I fell asleep on Jill and Aaron's floor. They woke me for D&D, and stared up at everyone and I think I said, "You are all like trees." (They were so tall! And also everything was sort of swimmy and elongated, like when they use wide-angle lens for close shots on TV.) Even the prospect of sating my bloodlust did not really help me wake. My eyelids were so heavy. I said some other non-sequitur kinds of things, too, I think.
And yeah, I finally figured it out. In my haste to grab some pain reliever, I must have taken the PM stuff by accident. THIS IS BAD. I am extremely susceptible to sleepy-making drugs. Benadryl, painkillers, whatever. Even the NON-DROWSY formula of Dramamine knocks me right the heck out.
So yeah, when it wasn't my turn during fights and when there was nothing for Kimba to do, I fell asleep with my head on the table. I pretty much acted drunk all night, which is okay, since my character, Kimba Trevel, is a paladin of the Drunken Mouse (a god I made up for our own pantheon in our homegrown D&D setting, Wrath & Gunfire). But anyway. Drugs are bad for you, okay? ::nods seriously:: I probably said some pretty funny stuff, but I honestly can't remember. I still feel a little out of it even now. Hate that floaty-head feeling, too.
2. Saturday, my brother Andrew graduated high school. This was with all the homeschoolers in the area, so it was held in a church. When I graduated, seven years ago, there were twenty-one. This time, forty-two, exactly double. Pretty cool.
Indiana treats every home school as its own private school, so the parents are the principals as well as the teachers. So the giving of every diploma was like a tiny ceremony in itself--the parents and student (or students, in one case) went up on stage, the parents talked, the kid could say something in return, and then the parents gave their child a diploma and the child gave their mother (usually) a rose. It was very sweet and heartfelt, but it definitely got a little long, doing that forty-two times. The parents were supposed to limit themselves to one minute of talking, and the kids were supposed to stick with thirty seconds, but even that is a long time when you have that many people.
I zoned out for some of it, but goodness, it was very touching. So many people got choked up, both kids and parents. My mom had written this lovely speech--rewrote it a couple of times, asked me to proofread--and then she couldn't even say it when it was her time. Homeschooling builds some pretty deep, incredible bonds. You depend on each other for everything. And every single parent was so, so proud. And rightfully so.
The coolest thing, I thought, was all the different colors of robes. They were black, and white, pink, yellow, about three shades of green, a bunch of different kinds of blue, etc etc. Andrew wore purple. When I graduated I wore blue, and I think our sister Bethany wore a different color than both of us. But anyway, here's a crappy cell phone pic.
3. Yis, I have a new pet rattie. I'm going to try to be more careful about the introductions this time, make sure that they get along. Bartleby needs companionship, even if Sebastian would rather be a little old curmudgeon.
He's a lilac hooded dumbo, and he's adorable, of course. My sister Charity came up with "Leo" for his name, and I thought it was perfect, but now I can't seem to call him anything but "Little Leo." Because he is just so very little, and precious, and wee. His personality is distinctly his own--whereas Sebastian prefers his own company and Bartleby demands constant attention, Leo is so very curious. Whenever I dare to let him out of his cage for a little while his ears pop up and he takes off just as quick as he can, exploring and sniffing and rustling and occasionally coming back to me for skritchies. Another very lovely pet. ♥
It was VERY hard to get him to sit still for these. He's just as wiggly as my mice ever were!
So Monday night I play D&D with friends, yes? Well, I was sore, what with my elbows, and also my knees and sometimes my back. So on my way out the door I made a quick stop in the bathroom, rummaged around in the family box of medicine and found some painkillers and gulped a couple, then drove down to Josh's house to carpool to Huntington. About halfway there I started feeling kinda groggy, but didn't really think anything of it. I often get sleepy in late afternoon, but I perk up when we start playing. Well, not this time.
Josh drove and I slept all the way to Huntington. When we got there, I fell asleep on Jill and Aaron's floor. They woke me for D&D, and stared up at everyone and I think I said, "You are all like trees." (They were so tall! And also everything was sort of swimmy and elongated, like when they use wide-angle lens for close shots on TV.) Even the prospect of sating my bloodlust did not really help me wake. My eyelids were so heavy. I said some other non-sequitur kinds of things, too, I think.
And yeah, I finally figured it out. In my haste to grab some pain reliever, I must have taken the PM stuff by accident. THIS IS BAD. I am extremely susceptible to sleepy-making drugs. Benadryl, painkillers, whatever. Even the NON-DROWSY formula of Dramamine knocks me right the heck out.
So yeah, when it wasn't my turn during fights and when there was nothing for Kimba to do, I fell asleep with my head on the table. I pretty much acted drunk all night, which is okay, since my character, Kimba Trevel, is a paladin of the Drunken Mouse (a god I made up for our own pantheon in our homegrown D&D setting, Wrath & Gunfire). But anyway. Drugs are bad for you, okay? ::nods seriously:: I probably said some pretty funny stuff, but I honestly can't remember. I still feel a little out of it even now. Hate that floaty-head feeling, too.
2. Saturday, my brother Andrew graduated high school. This was with all the homeschoolers in the area, so it was held in a church. When I graduated, seven years ago, there were twenty-one. This time, forty-two, exactly double. Pretty cool.
Indiana treats every home school as its own private school, so the parents are the principals as well as the teachers. So the giving of every diploma was like a tiny ceremony in itself--the parents and student (or students, in one case) went up on stage, the parents talked, the kid could say something in return, and then the parents gave their child a diploma and the child gave their mother (usually) a rose. It was very sweet and heartfelt, but it definitely got a little long, doing that forty-two times. The parents were supposed to limit themselves to one minute of talking, and the kids were supposed to stick with thirty seconds, but even that is a long time when you have that many people.
I zoned out for some of it, but goodness, it was very touching. So many people got choked up, both kids and parents. My mom had written this lovely speech--rewrote it a couple of times, asked me to proofread--and then she couldn't even say it when it was her time. Homeschooling builds some pretty deep, incredible bonds. You depend on each other for everything. And every single parent was so, so proud. And rightfully so.
The coolest thing, I thought, was all the different colors of robes. They were black, and white, pink, yellow, about three shades of green, a bunch of different kinds of blue, etc etc. Andrew wore purple. When I graduated I wore blue, and I think our sister Bethany wore a different color than both of us. But anyway, here's a crappy cell phone pic.
3. Yis, I have a new pet rattie. I'm going to try to be more careful about the introductions this time, make sure that they get along. Bartleby needs companionship, even if Sebastian would rather be a little old curmudgeon.
He's a lilac hooded dumbo, and he's adorable, of course. My sister Charity came up with "Leo" for his name, and I thought it was perfect, but now I can't seem to call him anything but "Little Leo." Because he is just so very little, and precious, and wee. His personality is distinctly his own--whereas Sebastian prefers his own company and Bartleby demands constant attention, Leo is so very curious. Whenever I dare to let him out of his cage for a little while his ears pop up and he takes off just as quick as he can, exploring and sniffing and rustling and occasionally coming back to me for skritchies. Another very lovely pet. ♥
It was VERY hard to get him to sit still for these. He's just as wiggly as my mice ever were!
