351.
My grandmother on my dad's side rang me up last night to ask if there was anyone riding with me during my impending move next month. Blake was my number one choice at the time since he is very savvy about cars and long distance travel, but his spot may have been uprooted after Grandma volunteered to come with me.
The truth is, I'm still pretty sore at Blake since he screwed me out of a trip to Anime Boston (which I'm also kind of thankful for because it saved me from going into debt -- among other things -- but still), and he has such a negative personality these days that it's hard to be around him without getting exasperated. While he is one of my closest friends, practically a brother to me, I know Grandma would be much better company.
This news came as such a relief to Mom. If anything is worth worrying about, even a tiny bit, she will lose her mind; and everything new I want to do or try seems to worry her. Sometimes I can tell she's silently begging me not to go, but I know she won't stop me. She agrees that this is an important step I need to take in life.
Tomorrow night is the two-hour Supernatural season finale, and all I can say is, "It's about time."
This season has been so dismal and poorly constructed, it's hard to believe that it's the same program I fell in love with just a few years ago. I used to be spoiler-phobic, but now I read up on everything I can to soften the blow of disappointment. Even the season 7 promo blurb sounds like more of the same. As time goes on and more of the original crew departs, I'm growing less and less convinced that they'll ever recapture the magic of earlier seasons. I'll always have the DVDs, I s'pose.
Methinks it's time for a long nap. Or I can finally finish "The Picture of Dorian Gray" while trying to ignore Lord Henry Wotton's completely misogynistic diatribes. "All women secretly crave masters" my foot!
The truth is, I'm still pretty sore at Blake since he screwed me out of a trip to Anime Boston (which I'm also kind of thankful for because it saved me from going into debt -- among other things -- but still), and he has such a negative personality these days that it's hard to be around him without getting exasperated. While he is one of my closest friends, practically a brother to me, I know Grandma would be much better company.
This news came as such a relief to Mom. If anything is worth worrying about, even a tiny bit, she will lose her mind; and everything new I want to do or try seems to worry her. Sometimes I can tell she's silently begging me not to go, but I know she won't stop me. She agrees that this is an important step I need to take in life.
Tomorrow night is the two-hour Supernatural season finale, and all I can say is, "It's about time."
This season has been so dismal and poorly constructed, it's hard to believe that it's the same program I fell in love with just a few years ago. I used to be spoiler-phobic, but now I read up on everything I can to soften the blow of disappointment. Even the season 7 promo blurb sounds like more of the same. As time goes on and more of the original crew departs, I'm growing less and less convinced that they'll ever recapture the magic of earlier seasons. I'll always have the DVDs, I s'pose.
Methinks it's time for a long nap. Or I can finally finish "The Picture of Dorian Gray" while trying to ignore Lord Henry Wotton's completely misogynistic diatribes. "All women secretly crave masters" my foot!