Turtle figured she should probably get some sleep for work tomorrow, but she was feeling a little restless and, instead, was just sort of lying on her bed, staring at the wall and thinking. About clubs coming up, about when she'd hear back from various college applications she'd been sending out super early, about the elections, about a lot of ( Read more... )

Back on her native soil, Turtle decided that she was way too portal-lagged and tired to do much good at fight club. It certainly had nothing to do with the fact that she was also feeling a little....sheepish about the fact that she'd just gone to England for the weekend for a booty call. With her exboyfriend ( Read more... )

There was a certain rhythm to Turtle's working, assuming the ever-comforting position of sitting cross-legged on her bed, surrounded by files and folders and stocks reports and plugging away at things on her laptop. It was a very particular type-type-type, flip through things, type-type-type some more, then look up, sigh, and sit distracted for a ( Read more... )

So, that was it. There'd been a day or two in between and now Turtle had finished going through and rearranging the room in the unfortunate but necessary manner that meant Jeff wasn't there anymore and it was all her unless she got a substitute when the new kids would arrive. At first, Turtle thought she wouldn't be able to stand the idea, but ( Read more... )

Sometimes, there were weird things that happened on this island that were just weird or stupid or annoying, and, other times, there were weird things that happened on this island from which one could learn something ( Read more... )

Miss Lydia Bennet found herself awakening to a most confusing state of affairs and, perhaps if she were a more temperate sort like her sisters, it would have also been most confusing, as well. It wasn't so much the unfamiliar surroundings that left her a little out-of-sorts, but simply the unfamiliar company, in such very close proximity. She ( Read more... )

Sitting on her bed with her laptop in her...well, lap...Turtle's fingers were a flurry of typing and her expression was one of continual spikes of amusement. She wasn't, however, working on what would usually cause such a response, business reports or law briefs. She had actually gotten up a little early, so that she could make the appointment ( Read more... )

The devil-beast had been taken care of, so Turtle knew she could pull out all of her files and folders without having to worry about the precious business information contained within being spoiled by dog drool or consumption. There was a lot of stuff there, and it was all fairly organized, but Turtle still wasn't entirely sure where to start ( Read more... )

Grace Windsor-Wexler was not happy about it at all, but Turtle Wexler was tromping through the door of her dorm room at Fandom that Friday afternoon after a flight in, and she was very glad for it. She tried to explain to her mother that Radio Was Radio, and it could not be missed, no matter what the holiday, but Grace was skeptical, and with good ( Read more... )

( Jeff is probably going to need even MORE therapy now... )