Departed.
So I've been back for a full 24 hours, but I've been busy. Busy with lecture. Busy with homework. Busy with sleeping.
Mostly sleeping.
This was a break that wasn't long enough at all. In fact, it ended with me feeling worse than I did going into it. But that's to be expected when your father, who was sick on Thanksgiving, gives you a nasty bug. One that keeps you up all night long vomiting - and other unmentionable things - and leaves you achy in all your joints and muscles.
Which is bad, but coupled with the fact that you finally fall asleep at about 6 am on Sunday- when you are supposed to meet your ride at 4 that afternoon - makes you want to cry tears of blood. I intended to leisurely finish packing and leave home with happy thoughts. Instead mom and I rushed around, we pulled out with me looking longingly at my bedroom window with my queen sized bed and wishing I didn't have to leave.
I just knew I couldn't get to Iowa city in time to meet Andrew, I was certain of it. So I texted Reed, and he was planning on leaving even earlier. But one sad text and a pleading phone call later, and he changed his plans, agreeing to meet me at the halfway point before heading west.
I really do own his soul.
I found out that he actually lives way the fuck far north in the state, and that I was taking him way out of his way, but he doesn't mind. How do I find these people?
We drove over and arrived at our apartment buildings at about 8 or 9 last night. I pretty much changed into my pajamas, read some, then crashed into bed, utterly miserable.
Thankfully sleep was blissfully unexciting. I awoke feeling far better, and took a shower, saying hi to my surprised roommate- she thought i was already out of the building. Before I jumped in she turned on the television and was watching the Today show.
Yep, I was feeling alright, for it being a Monday Morning. It wasn't as though something terrible happened last night, right?
Like all terrible news, Matt Lauer broke it to me first. Em had left the tv on when she left the apartment and I was brushing my teeth when I heard it.
Fucking hell.
In what has to be the strangest coincidence of my 20 years, one that I cannot prove but does thoroughly weird me out, yesterday or the day before I remember thinking - in my flu induced insomnia, I think - that Leslie Nielsen cannot possibly die, he never ages at all. I remember distinctly that he wouldn't die, in my opinion, but just disappear one day, suddenly. My friend Kendra told me that I killed him, but seriously, of all the actors to be thinking about then, what were the odds of it being the one who passes away, at possibly the same time? It spooked me.
I also had Ziggy Stardust in my head that night and made a connection between Bowie's anisocoria and his eye patch phase. I was solving all the world's mysteries in between bouts of vomiting.
Still, I'm sad to lose one of my White haired gentlemen. It makes me edgy, and in a bad way. So I got to take stock and see if the rest are alright. Just, you know, to be sure. So let's see here, hmm...
Clint Eastwood: Directing the recently released film Hereafter and has another due out in 2012. Says he is retired from acting. Still the manliest man of all time, even if I think my mother's aunt looks like him. 6'2". Wow. IMDB gets bizarrely detailed sometimes. But safe. Okay.
Tom Baker: Did the narration for Genie in the Bottle, which officially sounds like the most adorable thing and I must see it now. Has a new recording of his book The Boy Who Kicked Pigs. He updated his blog within the last two months. Going to say he's safe too. (And is it weird that I notice, based on his newest pictures, that he appears to still have his own teeth? I mean, dentures have been on my mind a lot in the last year, and his teeth are so trademark, I can't help but feel relieved and a bit creeped out by myself.)
Robert Plant appears to be much the same as he ever has. As does Ringo Starr. Sir Ian McKellen is still timeless. Macca is doing his thing. And Arlo Guthrie. (I just realised I didn't listen to Alice's Restaurant Massacree this Thanksgiving. FAIL.)((But no worries I'm listening to it now. Better late then never, right?)) (((*sigh* it's just not the same.))) You can't forget about Morgan Freeman either.
And I forgot who else I was going to look up. :3 But they better all be okay or I'm going to punch them all in the face. I get very violent when faced with death, I guess. Tom Baker, you better not do anything silly like catching pneumonia or discovering a small tumor in your foot or anything, okay?
Meanwhile, I have to put Leslie up beside John Inman, Jon Pertwee, Red Skelton, Lee Marvin, Roberto Gari, Abraham Lincoln, Alec Guinness, Richard Harris, and many others. My shelf is getting loaded down.
I'm such a sexist. So Betty White, you better not do anything stupid either, okay?
Meanwhile, I think this post has got totally out of control, and Arlo is telling me I need to sing along in a minute, so I better wrap this post up.
We should be back on regular schedule around here now, for the next three weeks or so. Then- Christmas break! Let's see if I can go home feeling alright and come back feeling okay as well.
You can get anything you want at Alice's Restaurant...
Mostly sleeping.
This was a break that wasn't long enough at all. In fact, it ended with me feeling worse than I did going into it. But that's to be expected when your father, who was sick on Thanksgiving, gives you a nasty bug. One that keeps you up all night long vomiting - and other unmentionable things - and leaves you achy in all your joints and muscles.
Which is bad, but coupled with the fact that you finally fall asleep at about 6 am on Sunday- when you are supposed to meet your ride at 4 that afternoon - makes you want to cry tears of blood. I intended to leisurely finish packing and leave home with happy thoughts. Instead mom and I rushed around, we pulled out with me looking longingly at my bedroom window with my queen sized bed and wishing I didn't have to leave.
I just knew I couldn't get to Iowa city in time to meet Andrew, I was certain of it. So I texted Reed, and he was planning on leaving even earlier. But one sad text and a pleading phone call later, and he changed his plans, agreeing to meet me at the halfway point before heading west.
I really do own his soul.
I found out that he actually lives way the fuck far north in the state, and that I was taking him way out of his way, but he doesn't mind. How do I find these people?
We drove over and arrived at our apartment buildings at about 8 or 9 last night. I pretty much changed into my pajamas, read some, then crashed into bed, utterly miserable.
Thankfully sleep was blissfully unexciting. I awoke feeling far better, and took a shower, saying hi to my surprised roommate- she thought i was already out of the building. Before I jumped in she turned on the television and was watching the Today show.
Yep, I was feeling alright, for it being a Monday Morning. It wasn't as though something terrible happened last night, right?
Like all terrible news, Matt Lauer broke it to me first. Em had left the tv on when she left the apartment and I was brushing my teeth when I heard it.
Fucking hell.
In what has to be the strangest coincidence of my 20 years, one that I cannot prove but does thoroughly weird me out, yesterday or the day before I remember thinking - in my flu induced insomnia, I think - that Leslie Nielsen cannot possibly die, he never ages at all. I remember distinctly that he wouldn't die, in my opinion, but just disappear one day, suddenly. My friend Kendra told me that I killed him, but seriously, of all the actors to be thinking about then, what were the odds of it being the one who passes away, at possibly the same time? It spooked me.
I also had Ziggy Stardust in my head that night and made a connection between Bowie's anisocoria and his eye patch phase. I was solving all the world's mysteries in between bouts of vomiting.
Still, I'm sad to lose one of my White haired gentlemen. It makes me edgy, and in a bad way. So I got to take stock and see if the rest are alright. Just, you know, to be sure. So let's see here, hmm...
Clint Eastwood: Directing the recently released film Hereafter and has another due out in 2012. Says he is retired from acting. Still the manliest man of all time, even if I think my mother's aunt looks like him. 6'2". Wow. IMDB gets bizarrely detailed sometimes. But safe. Okay.
Tom Baker: Did the narration for Genie in the Bottle, which officially sounds like the most adorable thing and I must see it now. Has a new recording of his book The Boy Who Kicked Pigs. He updated his blog within the last two months. Going to say he's safe too. (And is it weird that I notice, based on his newest pictures, that he appears to still have his own teeth? I mean, dentures have been on my mind a lot in the last year, and his teeth are so trademark, I can't help but feel relieved and a bit creeped out by myself.)
Robert Plant appears to be much the same as he ever has. As does Ringo Starr. Sir Ian McKellen is still timeless. Macca is doing his thing. And Arlo Guthrie. (I just realised I didn't listen to Alice's Restaurant Massacree this Thanksgiving. FAIL.)((But no worries I'm listening to it now. Better late then never, right?)) (((*sigh* it's just not the same.))) You can't forget about Morgan Freeman either.
And I forgot who else I was going to look up. :3 But they better all be okay or I'm going to punch them all in the face. I get very violent when faced with death, I guess. Tom Baker, you better not do anything silly like catching pneumonia or discovering a small tumor in your foot or anything, okay?
Meanwhile, I have to put Leslie up beside John Inman, Jon Pertwee, Red Skelton, Lee Marvin, Roberto Gari, Abraham Lincoln, Alec Guinness, Richard Harris, and many others. My shelf is getting loaded down.
I'm such a sexist. So Betty White, you better not do anything stupid either, okay?
Meanwhile, I think this post has got totally out of control, and Arlo is telling me I need to sing along in a minute, so I better wrap this post up.
We should be back on regular schedule around here now, for the next three weeks or so. Then- Christmas break! Let's see if I can go home feeling alright and come back feeling okay as well.
You can get anything you want at Alice's Restaurant...