Can we get an armadillo?
You know what I was just thinking about? The Scott Stapp/Jesus tick.
*dies laughing*
I hate doing online asterisk-actions like that. But the Scott Stapp/Jesus tick... he deserves them. He was taken higher. Kathleen and I always have such interesting times... mountaineering Monopoly on the front lawn, secret missions, fancy dinners, awkward moments, and deep conversations. Point in case: Friday night. We arranged a rendezvous at El Loco involving dress-up, a wilted rose, and a super hot Harry Potter valentine. There wasn't much of grave consequence to talk about, it seemed, but what there was, we discussed over good coffee. Oh em gee. We're sooo trendy.
After returning home, I was seized with an irresistible urge to clean... at 4 AM. I had been cleaning all day, but there was an urge. We do not deny urges, especially when those urges switch from "clean!" to "start wearing anything you come across that strikes your fancy!" I found myself, by 4:30, sporting a side ponytail, my lower school gym shirt, rhinestone cat-eye glasses, and chandelier earrings.
Friday, also, was my elljay's 3rd birthday and I neglected to update to commemorate. It must've felt like Molly Ringwald in Sixteen Candles.
In other birthdays, Saturday was Cassie's 18th, so a belated happy birthday to her. I trekked on up to Lake George for midnight bowling with that crowd. I have not been bowling in ages, and so couldn't even remember whether I was left-handed or right-handed, and, to this day, it remains a mystery. Jesse Pound kept making fun of me for it. It was, indeed, pretty pathetic. I just switched up whenever Left Elbow couldn't take it anymore. When I was not bowling, I mostly stood around awkwardly. Jesse Karp has a bracelet that I covet intensely. I tried to encourage a rumble between the Jesses, since they dislike each other to the max, but alas, no finger-snapping transpired, and the violence for the evening was confined to dirty looks. When you're a Jet, you're a Jet all the way...
Upon waking up Sunday morning, I began the voyage up to Plattsburgh for 3 hours of cultural training, and, in the process, had the worst driving experience of my life. Now, you need half a tank of gas to get to Plattsburgh and back from Schroon Lake, and I should know because I do it all the time, but my mom attempted to assure me that I could do it on less and didn't give me any gas money. This was a problem. Everyone who knows me knows that I'm perpetually broke. I made it to Plattsburgh, went to cultural training, and was between Exits 31 and 30 on my way back when the low fuel light went off. I am supposed to get off exit 28. Had this been Albany, fine, I'd only have a couple miles to go for two and a half exits, no big deal, but when you're far enough north on I-87, exits can be 15 miles apart. I resolved, then, that I would get off the next exit, search under the seats for change, and get as much gas as I could afford, because I did not fancy breaking down on the side of the Northway. Unfortunately, the next exit was North Hudson. If you've never heard of it, don't worry. There's nothing there except a couple abandoned sheds and a lot of trees. Most exits have a gas station right off them. Nope, not North Hudson. I drove 20 miles on a winding road through the woods. At this point, I was on the verge of breakdown, both physically (car-wise) and mentally. There were no houses. There were no other cars. It was freezing outside. I did not have cell phone reception. I kept praying that around every corner there would be a gas station, but there was not. I got back on the Northway in Newcomb, because it's always better to breakdown where people can find you. Running on what few fumes were even left, I somehow coasted off my exit ramp, still praying to God I could make it to the gas station, because I did not have enough fuel in the tank to make it the half-mile to my house. I scraped up a dollar in nickels and purchased my squirt of gas, and made it home... somehow. My mom couldn't care less about my minor ordeal.
Herein lies the photographic adventure of my life since... Friday, since the only part of Thursday even remotely noteworthy was the AP Bio exam, which I survived, despite the best efforts of Left Elbow. I must warn you, dear reader, that most of the pictures are of me, so proceed with the utmost caution.
My speakers are pretty fucking ace.
My El Loco outfit, I must confess, was pretty hot. Kathleen's, I must also confess, was hotter, but I only have pictures of mine... so console yourselves accordingly.
I look weird.
Hat!
You dare not tell me that that is not the loveliest hat in all the land (now that I've lost the only two hats I preferred.)
My room-cleaning ensemble.
The best thing in my newly-clean room:
So I guess if my mom can paint something I love, I sort of love her by default?
My sister decided to give me camwhoring lessons. Please note the Pagemaster towel in the background.
My monkey felt like saying hi.
And here is where I camwhore because I have no real life:
Happy!
Sad!
In pigtails!
Creepy!
Umm... I really like comments. Especially if you survived that lj-cut. *shudder*
*dies laughing*
I hate doing online asterisk-actions like that. But the Scott Stapp/Jesus tick... he deserves them. He was taken higher. Kathleen and I always have such interesting times... mountaineering Monopoly on the front lawn, secret missions, fancy dinners, awkward moments, and deep conversations. Point in case: Friday night. We arranged a rendezvous at El Loco involving dress-up, a wilted rose, and a super hot Harry Potter valentine. There wasn't much of grave consequence to talk about, it seemed, but what there was, we discussed over good coffee. Oh em gee. We're sooo trendy.
After returning home, I was seized with an irresistible urge to clean... at 4 AM. I had been cleaning all day, but there was an urge. We do not deny urges, especially when those urges switch from "clean!" to "start wearing anything you come across that strikes your fancy!" I found myself, by 4:30, sporting a side ponytail, my lower school gym shirt, rhinestone cat-eye glasses, and chandelier earrings.
Friday, also, was my elljay's 3rd birthday and I neglected to update to commemorate. It must've felt like Molly Ringwald in Sixteen Candles.
In other birthdays, Saturday was Cassie's 18th, so a belated happy birthday to her. I trekked on up to Lake George for midnight bowling with that crowd. I have not been bowling in ages, and so couldn't even remember whether I was left-handed or right-handed, and, to this day, it remains a mystery. Jesse Pound kept making fun of me for it. It was, indeed, pretty pathetic. I just switched up whenever Left Elbow couldn't take it anymore. When I was not bowling, I mostly stood around awkwardly. Jesse Karp has a bracelet that I covet intensely. I tried to encourage a rumble between the Jesses, since they dislike each other to the max, but alas, no finger-snapping transpired, and the violence for the evening was confined to dirty looks. When you're a Jet, you're a Jet all the way...
Upon waking up Sunday morning, I began the voyage up to Plattsburgh for 3 hours of cultural training, and, in the process, had the worst driving experience of my life. Now, you need half a tank of gas to get to Plattsburgh and back from Schroon Lake, and I should know because I do it all the time, but my mom attempted to assure me that I could do it on less and didn't give me any gas money. This was a problem. Everyone who knows me knows that I'm perpetually broke. I made it to Plattsburgh, went to cultural training, and was between Exits 31 and 30 on my way back when the low fuel light went off. I am supposed to get off exit 28. Had this been Albany, fine, I'd only have a couple miles to go for two and a half exits, no big deal, but when you're far enough north on I-87, exits can be 15 miles apart. I resolved, then, that I would get off the next exit, search under the seats for change, and get as much gas as I could afford, because I did not fancy breaking down on the side of the Northway. Unfortunately, the next exit was North Hudson. If you've never heard of it, don't worry. There's nothing there except a couple abandoned sheds and a lot of trees. Most exits have a gas station right off them. Nope, not North Hudson. I drove 20 miles on a winding road through the woods. At this point, I was on the verge of breakdown, both physically (car-wise) and mentally. There were no houses. There were no other cars. It was freezing outside. I did not have cell phone reception. I kept praying that around every corner there would be a gas station, but there was not. I got back on the Northway in Newcomb, because it's always better to breakdown where people can find you. Running on what few fumes were even left, I somehow coasted off my exit ramp, still praying to God I could make it to the gas station, because I did not have enough fuel in the tank to make it the half-mile to my house. I scraped up a dollar in nickels and purchased my squirt of gas, and made it home... somehow. My mom couldn't care less about my minor ordeal.
Herein lies the photographic adventure of my life since... Friday, since the only part of Thursday even remotely noteworthy was the AP Bio exam, which I survived, despite the best efforts of Left Elbow. I must warn you, dear reader, that most of the pictures are of me, so proceed with the utmost caution.
My speakers are pretty fucking ace.
My El Loco outfit, I must confess, was pretty hot. Kathleen's, I must also confess, was hotter, but I only have pictures of mine... so console yourselves accordingly.
I look weird.
Hat!
You dare not tell me that that is not the loveliest hat in all the land (now that I've lost the only two hats I preferred.)
My room-cleaning ensemble.
The best thing in my newly-clean room:
So I guess if my mom can paint something I love, I sort of love her by default?
My sister decided to give me camwhoring lessons. Please note the Pagemaster towel in the background.
My monkey felt like saying hi.
And here is where I camwhore because I have no real life:
Happy!
Sad!
In pigtails!
Creepy!
Umm... I really like comments. Especially if you survived that lj-cut. *shudder*