(no subject)
On Wednesday night, I drove home from school, ate dinner, and went to my grandparents' house on the way to a shopping trip. At my grandparents', my grandfather was so happy to see me that he cuffed me on the left ear as he leaned to catch me, then hugged me hard across the middle of the head. Useful advice. If you ever want to put yourself into a circumstance where you'll have to be in horrible pain and not yell or even wince, try having a fresh cartilege piercing torn by a relative who would be horrified by the idea of the piercing in the first place.
Thursday morning saw us off on a five-hour trip from our home in the suburbs to the northwestern coast of the state. It's gorgeous out there-- we're stuck out on a crappy little Native American reservation right on the ocean, separated from the beach by a thick layer of bracken and driftwood. You don't get waves like that in Puget Sound. I managed not to get soaked in the water this year, although I didn't manage much of anything else. It was a fairly boring little trip, honestly; once you see the beauty of the nature you quickly get inside and realize that there's nothing to do. I did get thrown out of my first grocery store, though, for sitting too long on the floor reading a cheap paperback about Bigfoot. Other events of note: I started reading Angelica by Sharon Shinn (it shares so much plot with Archangel! I keep thinking "Didn't I already read this story?"); several of my original characters started to get loud and demand story or playspace. Of course, as soon as I get home, they go silent again; after drinking copiously from an opened bottle of red wine I cheerily quoted Glen Hansard and explained to my mother that I was now intoxicated enough to understand James Joyce. She sent me to bed.
So anyway, I'm back at school and ready to plough through these little awful last bits of academia before I blow this joint in early December. I also have a hell of a lot of deadlines to settle tomorrow morning, apparently.
(Oh please help me, I'm becoming a hopeless emo fangirl and I'm not even an emo kid. I can't stop reading My Chemical Romance bandslash porn.)
Thursday morning saw us off on a five-hour trip from our home in the suburbs to the northwestern coast of the state. It's gorgeous out there-- we're stuck out on a crappy little Native American reservation right on the ocean, separated from the beach by a thick layer of bracken and driftwood. You don't get waves like that in Puget Sound. I managed not to get soaked in the water this year, although I didn't manage much of anything else. It was a fairly boring little trip, honestly; once you see the beauty of the nature you quickly get inside and realize that there's nothing to do. I did get thrown out of my first grocery store, though, for sitting too long on the floor reading a cheap paperback about Bigfoot. Other events of note: I started reading Angelica by Sharon Shinn (it shares so much plot with Archangel! I keep thinking "Didn't I already read this story?"); several of my original characters started to get loud and demand story or playspace. Of course, as soon as I get home, they go silent again; after drinking copiously from an opened bottle of red wine I cheerily quoted Glen Hansard and explained to my mother that I was now intoxicated enough to understand James Joyce. She sent me to bed.
So anyway, I'm back at school and ready to plough through these little awful last bits of academia before I blow this joint in early December. I also have a hell of a lot of deadlines to settle tomorrow morning, apparently.
(Oh please help me, I'm becoming a hopeless emo fangirl and I'm not even an emo kid. I can't stop reading My Chemical Romance bandslash porn.)