Jul 26, 2005 22:16
So, mofos, this is what it comes down to: my new laptop is the essence of love. I don't need you and your silly human tricks. All I want is the clinking of this keyboard and aaaalllllllll my pretty new widgets. (Except this widget that I'm using to type out this entry is pretty lame. I wonder if I can use Journler to do this.)
Yeah, I'm pretty sad about leaving workshop. (Not camp, dammit, it's a workshop!) I didn't go to group or anything today, in fact, I haven't called up anybody from Richmond or anything. Mostly I've just been e-communicating with Y-Dubbers, and, of course, the amazing ladies of the People for the Independent Republic of Lile. (Except for Cha. What a total loser. I'd never, ever talk to someone that lame.)
No, really, I love Cha. Why else would I have married her at the dining hall during breakfast on the last day before the closing ceremony? I even had a biscuit to celebrate. I like Newcomb's biscuits. Newhoo took some truly awesome pictures. Hey, I just realized that my friend Newhoo's name looks like the name of our dining hall! I wonder if it would still be cool to make fun of her about it, especially after half her face got bitten off by zombies.
I got back from Why Dub You Dubya?, let's see, Friday. Saturday, Sunday, and Monday were spent working at the park again. Monday it stormed for the second time that I've been working this season; it was pretty cool. I have to admit that for all the cursing I did, I had a blast. Once again, I was at Grove, and there's just something about being trapped outside with only a roof and three walls for protection, all the while water streaming from the sky and rushing around the ground and lightning everywhere, striking the rides, that is absolutely exhilarating.
I don't even care that the preceeding sentence lacked grammatical clarity. I don't care that I'm not using spellcheck.
That reminds me of a piece of a poem that my friend Emma wrote... really, it was an incredibly honest breakup poem. I'm never that honest about my breakups. Think "Tonight I can write..."-level honesty. She better post that poem online. Especially the part about caps and puncs.
I guess I'm rambling, huh? I can't think straight this soon after workshop. I forget what exactly Avital said about it, but it's true. Leaving Y-dubs, it rips open something, something that was just starting to heal.
At least I have my job, and Penn, and my memories. These things keep me the Person I thought I could be.