(no subject)
Last night I had a dream that placed me in my familiar childhood favorite places but not in the circumstances. My grandmother's house was in New York suddenly and it was also a hotspot of paranormal activity. My mother and father didn't live in my house; instead a couple did, one of whom was called Jack. From what I gathered they were descendents of mine who had inherited the house and the people at my grandma's had for whatever reason brought me forward in time to see them. Instead of scaring me it aggravated me, because I didn't want to be brought forward. So okay then; I was pretty relieved to wake up.
Yesterday Uncle Ric took me out on the lake and I went inner-tubing. It started off great for it-- we got up to Maximum Tubing Velocity™, and I didn't get thrown off. We went twice more, and I was thrown once when he took a curve too fast and there was no way for me to adequately shift my weight. He'd thrown me over the wake; what did he think would happen? The third time was outright painful, because the wind had picked up and I was going over three- or four-foot waves regularly and barely managing to hang on. On the plus side, my arms got a workout; on the negative side, I got a killer sunburn despite only being in the sun for around 45 minutes and applying suntan lotion. What the hell? (It also figures that the one water sport I'm any good at is the one that hardly gives you any exercise at all.)
There's something very cathartic about regurgitating all your worries du jour on your best friend like some sort of sickly mother bird, and having her go "So what are you worrying about?" and realizing she's right.
My thoughts lately have been centering around religion, nature, and how I'm going to decorate my dorm room next year. So far my most concrete decision is: tank of guppies. Suggestions, anyone?
Yesterday Uncle Ric took me out on the lake and I went inner-tubing. It started off great for it-- we got up to Maximum Tubing Velocity™, and I didn't get thrown off. We went twice more, and I was thrown once when he took a curve too fast and there was no way for me to adequately shift my weight. He'd thrown me over the wake; what did he think would happen? The third time was outright painful, because the wind had picked up and I was going over three- or four-foot waves regularly and barely managing to hang on. On the plus side, my arms got a workout; on the negative side, I got a killer sunburn despite only being in the sun for around 45 minutes and applying suntan lotion. What the hell? (It also figures that the one water sport I'm any good at is the one that hardly gives you any exercise at all.)
There's something very cathartic about regurgitating all your worries du jour on your best friend like some sort of sickly mother bird, and having her go "So what are you worrying about?" and realizing she's right.
My thoughts lately have been centering around religion, nature, and how I'm going to decorate my dorm room next year. So far my most concrete decision is: tank of guppies. Suggestions, anyone?