I DIDN'T WANT TO APPARATE ANYWAY!!!!

[purepansy]

PEOPLE MAKE THE BIGGEST DEAL OUT OF THE LITTLEST THINGS!!!! HONESTLY, WHAT'S A FEW BODY PARTS STREWN HERE AND THERE?!?! SURVIVAL OF THE FITTEST, I SAY. YES, IT'S UNFORTUNATE THAT LARGER, MORE TERRIFYING BEASTS SEEM TO POP ABOUT WITHOUT IMPUNITY, WHILST THE SMALLER, MORE DELICATE HAVE TO FIGHT TO COME THROUGH IT ALL WITH ALL THEIR LIMBS AND GUTS

Comments

[nott_a_lot]

Have I read incorrectly, or do you think that you don't have anything to offer aside from outer beauty? Because that's not true.

[purepansy]

YOU THINK I'M UGLY TOO?!?!

[nott_a_lot]

Of course not.

I just think that, on top of outer beauty, you can offer your intellect.

[purepansy]

BECAUSE I QUITE THINK I'VE GROWN INTO MY NOSE BY NOW!!!!

I don't feel very intellectual at all!!!! An intellectual person CAN APPARATE!!!! And I don't even know what I want to do when I leave Hogwarts, and I don't even bloody care about N.E.W.T.s. I hardly think a person of great intellectual capacity wouldn't care about their N.E.W.T.s, and I'm certain they have career goals and future plans!!!!

[bootme]

I can't. I don't and I don't.

Not that I mean this as a major datapoint, but it is how it is.

[purepansy]

You . . . really? Did you try the test? As to the other, but you are BRILLIANT. You really don't know? Not even a clue?

[bootme]

Yes. End of the summer, came back, splinched something awful. Apparently it's some form of twisted family tradition, it happened to my father and one of my uncles as well.

My father's still not incredibly good at it. He prefers the Floo.

Thank you. And no, not really. Or yes really, whatever. I mean, really.

I don't want to be a Healer like my father, I don't want to research like my mother, be it magical or non, even if I could still do that, I have no interest in...much of anything, honestly. Or maybe I have too much interest. I don't know. It boils down to, I have no clue what I want to do.

And NEWTs don't tell you anything you need to know, I don't think.

[purepansy]

Really? I haven't gone without shoes since my test, because I'm still missing the littlest toe on my right foot. It's a good thing I'm not one of those mutant Muggles who has no arms, and who paints still-lifes of fruit bowls with my feet, because I would be quite out of luck if that were the case.

My father could Apparate, but he preferred the Floo as well.

Yes, really. But I know what you mean.

The only thing I'd really like to do is an impractical sort of career. Or so my mother always told me. She wanted me to go to work with the Ministry or something equally appalling.

Not only that, but I daresay when I'm all old and wrinkled . . . say, 30 or so . . . I won't really care what my N.E.W.T. marks were.

[bootme]

I don't believe I'm still physically missing anything, except possibly something internal and somewhat unimportant like a spleen or appendix or tonsil or something. I wasn't all there for a little while, however. My Uncle Aidan has four fingers on his right hand, however.

And my mother has always been fond of ruining my lifeplans. First she told me I could not grow up to be an owl, nor any other kind of bird, and that I could neither live as a consumptive Victorian era poet in a garret, and it was equally unlikely I would never have to work at all.

I think she just wants me to grow up to be her is what she wants. No imagination on that woman.

And I doubt I will care what I got when I'm 18, really. What's the point, when you boil it all down? I can barely even remember my OWL scores.

[purepansy]

I've always wondered what the purpose of the appendix is. I've read that if you chew your fingernails and swallow the bits, you'll give yourself appendicitis, because the bit of nail gets caught in the appendix and irritates it until it gets infected. But nevermind that . . . I'm just tired of sleeping in my socks and shoes!!!! I would be ashamed if anyone saw my toe, though . . . or lack thereof.

Hmm. Is ruining your child's lifeplans requisite for parenting? I wonder. I mean, your mother won't let you have a garret, and my mother won't let me have a Boo Hag.

A consumptive Victorian poet? What does that mean? You would be an alcoholic poet?

I won't have to work. My mother didn't work outside the home. I don't think I would be happy doing that, though.

Your mother wants you to be . . . her? That's anatomically impossible!!!!

[bootme]

The appendix is a vestigial organ, I fear. I forget what it's an analouge to, however. And I don't know of the nails thing, however.

And everyone's odd, I suppose. Who would see your toes under the covers, however? I mean, honestly?

And I really truly think it is. Every parent had parents who tried to force them into a mold. To make up for this, they promise they will not be the same way, and force their childen into what they wanted, instead of what they got

[purepansy]

I don't bite my nails anyway, as it's unseemingly. Besides, I don't have an appendix. I let Draco take it out when we were seven!!!! I think he still has it in a jar somewhere.

Well, I would know about my toe!!!! No one is under my covers but me, but it's still creepy and wrong!!!!

Oooo, a rootless, no good layabout . . . that sounds intriguing. Hmm. You know . . . hmm.

Hmm.

Fancy some quid pro quo?

Personally, I think a lab full of psychopathic animals sounds devine!!!!

[bootme]

I always have. It's a horrid habit, I know, but I have quite a few. And, assuming no magical accidents as I attempted to spin around the world, or just not land in a tree, I still have my appendix.

You have a point, but you know about it under your shoe as well, correct? You could always split the difference and sleep in your socks. My aunt does that when there's a chill in the air.

Is it wrong to admit a vague amount of fright right now?

And they're fine, until you start to realise that just about anything that looks small and cute and fuzzy is going to attempt to bite your hands off. I blame several of my neuroses on this fact.

[purepansy]

Sleep in my socks? I suppose I could if they weren't the kind of socks with the individual toes knitted into them.

Fright? Why, no!!!!

You have neuroses?!?!

[bootme]

Hm. Could you, then, not stuff something down into the empty toe sock toe? A puff of cotton or something, just to give an illusion of there being something in there?

It's just that I can only imagine that it must be murder on your sheets to be sleeping in your shoes.

Good, then, I suppose. Or not. Er...

And sometimes I wonder if there is a single part of my brain that is not made up of neuroses, useless facts or both of the preceeding.

[nott_a_lot]

There you go.