to quote the beatles: i'm soooo tired, i don't know what to do
09.01.02 @ 10:47 p.m.
This is slightly crazy... Paige's diary says it hasn't been updated in something like 11932 days. I think there's something wrong with the system...
SYMK squabbles seem to be gotten over. And ill-received joke. Alls well that ends well, though and probably no harm done, except I've maybe (MAYBE but not LIKELY) garned a little respect for telling someone off while being remarkably polite. Where does that come from? Pffft. I have no courage. Anyway, it probably wouldn't have been a problem if not for the 'shut up' and the 'jerks' thrown in there on the other person's part. At any rate, it was all a great big misunderstanding.
I am so damn glad to be leaving Los Angeles, frankly. It's bloody hot is what it is. Over a hundred by eleven in the morning and very furnacelike still. How could I have suspected? I've spent the day in the air conditioned comfort of Grandma's. At any rate, I cannot imagine how my grandmother is going to put up with something like three weeks of Aussie Patricia's high speed conversation. Not that I minded, but lawd does the woman TALK. A lot. Don't get me wrong, she is awesome, and I wish I could go visit her. (Perhaps when it's winter in Australia, though. Heat is not my friend, as can be plainly seen from my time her in SoCal.) But away we fly, up to the cooler north and I am not sorry to go. I would be if I thought I had an opportunity to hang out with Rachel further, but that's really not in the cards, not with school starting for her. Eamon is already in school and had to buy a graphing calculator. In the 8th grade! Too young, I think. He's primarily concerned with downloading games for it. *tsk tsk* I had the grace to not tell Jim and Kelly that I spent quite a lot of time creating intricate mazes on draw mode. They didn't need the ideas filtering into there innocent (if not spiritually 40 years old) son's head. I've probably done damage enough in my time here.
I really don't know when to keep my mouth shut sometimes...
As it is, I survived Sheila and surfer uncle Terry with only a little development of resentment towards the middle sister in my mom's family. Sometimes surfer uncle Terry finds a shy, quiet little place in my SoCal based fanfic as the obliging surfer record store owning uncle of Rowen Carlisle/Wheeling. (Rowen and her compatriot, Oliver, sometimes switch last names.) Plus a reaffirmation of my belief that Sheila is an all around ignorant git. What does it matter, I never really see her. She's my godparent (along with Eileen) but I have little to no communication with her and that doesn't bother me in the least.
Gnnnf. Too hot to continue typing. I need to consume another bottled water already. (My food consumption today was water, iced tea, mint Oreos (lots), chicken quesadillas, and some fried chicken and sides from El Pollo Loco. And more mint oreos. And an ice cream sandwich. It'll be good to go home and eat like a normal human being.)
Stranger in a Strange Land is getting interesting. If only Peter Tork had recommended more books to the readers of TiGER BEAT in 1968. ;) Ta.
Previously
fuck it @ 08.01.05
fanciful imaginary sea voyages to come @ 07.20.05
*dies* @ 07.19.05
more ootp @ 07.17.05
harry potter: driving our children into devil worship @ 07.17.05
