girl, you gotta know you're my shining star
The last ten days have been an impressive effort on my part not to sulk. Seriously, there should be Oscar buzz right now for my performance as a not-petulant teenage girl, possibly an Emmy nom, at least a Globe. Somewhere under the water is a ridiculous and creeptastic city the likes of which no one on this island has seen before with all kinds of interesting stuff going on and… yeah, I'm not the kind of person they let go down there without an escort. What do I not have? An escort. And okay, I don't want to die or anything? So I'll be the first to admit, yeah, I'm really not qualified to be down there alone, not even with the help of those seriously hardcore self-defense lessons I won on Casino Night, but still, I wanna see it.
Olive's only recourse is to drown herself in other activities for now, throwing herself into her lessons despite the heat and humidity. She's never letting something like the night she showed up here happen again, which she figures is half never giving them the excuse, but some guys don't need an excuse to think a girl's his to paw. It's hard on her muscles in a way that gradually gets easier and which, actually, she finds she likes. She never even liked P.E., but this is different.
It's evening by the time she manages to get hold of the projector, a few short reels she grabbed off the bookshelf next to her on the couch. She could ask one of the sort of official escorts to take her down into Rapture, she thinks, not for the first time, but she feels weird about asking someone she doesn't know to take her into what could be a dangerous situation. Deep down, she knows she shouldn't risk it anyway, but it's so hard to resist. Distraction is necessary, which is why the first of the reels she's been afforded today is perfect.
With a glance around to make sure there aren't any very small children present, she sets up the reel and flops back onto the couch. Is it juvenile to still find "Dick in a Box" hilarious? Yes? No? Oh, wait, I don't care. True, it's a little weird when I remember JT looks a lot like Sean Parker, but actually, that… kind of just makes it funnier. She's giggling before even twenty seconds have gone by, grooving on the couch. "You know it's Christmas and my heart is open wide, gonna give you something so you know what's - God, JT, make more music."
Olive's only recourse is to drown herself in other activities for now, throwing herself into her lessons despite the heat and humidity. She's never letting something like the night she showed up here happen again, which she figures is half never giving them the excuse, but some guys don't need an excuse to think a girl's his to paw. It's hard on her muscles in a way that gradually gets easier and which, actually, she finds she likes. She never even liked P.E., but this is different.
It's evening by the time she manages to get hold of the projector, a few short reels she grabbed off the bookshelf next to her on the couch. She could ask one of the sort of official escorts to take her down into Rapture, she thinks, not for the first time, but she feels weird about asking someone she doesn't know to take her into what could be a dangerous situation. Deep down, she knows she shouldn't risk it anyway, but it's so hard to resist. Distraction is necessary, which is why the first of the reels she's been afforded today is perfect.
With a glance around to make sure there aren't any very small children present, she sets up the reel and flops back onto the couch. Is it juvenile to still find "Dick in a Box" hilarious? Yes? No? Oh, wait, I don't care. True, it's a little weird when I remember JT looks a lot like Sean Parker, but actually, that… kind of just makes it funnier. She's giggling before even twenty seconds have gone by, grooving on the couch. "You know it's Christmas and my heart is open wide, gonna give you something so you know what's - God, JT, make more music."