Rhythmic gymnastics, though: that is where the real action's at.
This is it -- I move tomorrow. (Well, technically later today, but let's not quibble.) And my life looks even more pathetic reduced to a collection of boxes.
Due to my dithering on whether or not to get cable -- I ultimately decided against it -- I won't have internet in the new place until the end of next week if I'm lucky, the beginning of the week after that if I'm not. But of course there's my phone and public places with free wifi and the ever-present hope that the person in the next apartment over has unsecured wireless, so I will survive. And watch a lot of DVDs. And hopefully actually write something once the captivating yet ill-timed Olympics are over. And maybe sleep? That could happen.
Not impressed by handball, though. The version I played as a kid with my neighbor using a tennis ball and the garage door was more action-packed.
Due to my dithering on whether or not to get cable -- I ultimately decided against it -- I won't have internet in the new place until the end of next week if I'm lucky, the beginning of the week after that if I'm not. But of course there's my phone and public places with free wifi and the ever-present hope that the person in the next apartment over has unsecured wireless, so I will survive. And watch a lot of DVDs. And hopefully actually write something once the captivating yet ill-timed Olympics are over. And maybe sleep? That could happen.
Not impressed by handball, though. The version I played as a kid with my neighbor using a tennis ball and the garage door was more action-packed.