A note that said: "I've fallen out the window-- I'm dead!"
So, got some new Ruby pictures today, and I think that this is what the Gashleycrumb Tinies would have looked like if Gorey had had Morgan's color pallet:
So, life over here: basically too busy to process. I spend my evenings in night school, which is an entertaining sociological experience and an nice change from the expected Carver scene, but also very tedious. I went to Model U.N. representing the soveriegn nation of Dominica, which has a flag with a rather self satified parrot on it ( see here), where I killed my feet in the same heels for four days, lusted after the interpreter's booths, flirted with delegates (I believe Greece and America and Ukraine were among the top), and discovered that learning about gerunds from Ms. Stoll prepared me for a life of resolution writing. Oh, and made a pact with Lydia to meet her at the UN in ten years or so for work.
Attempts at figuring out what the hell I might be doing next year and at enjoying the weather and maybe even, I don't know, playing the cello or reading or something radical like that, are rapidly overshadowing my interest in schoolwork just as I need to be working for those $82 tests. It's beautiful day, my friends are happy, I refuse to stress, even if trying to get the ball rolling for next year is terrifying.
Oh, and definately no France. My sister's job can't transfer to the mainland. But once I turn 18, there's a plethora of opportunities I can do on my own-- just have to make it to January.
So, life over here: basically too busy to process. I spend my evenings in night school, which is an entertaining sociological experience and an nice change from the expected Carver scene, but also very tedious. I went to Model U.N. representing the soveriegn nation of Dominica, which has a flag with a rather self satified parrot on it ( see here), where I killed my feet in the same heels for four days, lusted after the interpreter's booths, flirted with delegates (I believe Greece and America and Ukraine were among the top), and discovered that learning about gerunds from Ms. Stoll prepared me for a life of resolution writing. Oh, and made a pact with Lydia to meet her at the UN in ten years or so for work.
Attempts at figuring out what the hell I might be doing next year and at enjoying the weather and maybe even, I don't know, playing the cello or reading or something radical like that, are rapidly overshadowing my interest in schoolwork just as I need to be working for those $82 tests. It's beautiful day, my friends are happy, I refuse to stress, even if trying to get the ball rolling for next year is terrifying.
Oh, and definately no France. My sister's job can't transfer to the mainland. But once I turn 18, there's a plethora of opportunities I can do on my own-- just have to make it to January.