All that mess of yesterday is behind me now; thanks everyone for being so understanding. Honestly, I'm glad last night was the night I had to do my little blow-up/meta-analytical orgy, since there wasn't much to do except for all of the thousands of trivial things that will be around for days, though not weeks, to come.
Now for the keeping of the regular journal part. Abed at an ungodly hour (thanks to [Bad username: <lj user=]
), I rose only five hours later to find the house in an uproar, since Dad couldn't figure out how to install the air conditioners with the new windows we had put in back in March and the only possible way he could think of dealing with it was growling about everyone else's mess. Although a whole shitload of indignity and a few hours later, my parts of the house were clean as a whistle.
I amscrayed out, though, to meet cette_vie
to pay a visit to a friend of hers in Somerville. Aladdin
was fun, but I wasn't sure what to make of the very hippie commune-like living space (eclectic, a bit dirty, with lots of alcohol in the kitchen). Or rather, I was sure what to make of it, but was too polite/freaked out to say anything. I felt a special kinship with the black cat that coughed like a sixty-five-year-old with emphysema and had gunky eyes. We made it to Harvard Square station on time, though, and sat through Coxian Practice Number Two.
I like the new training method, I really do, and the material we were being quizzed on was stuff I knew very well. (Think vocabulary. Derivatives I botched enough to forfeit the right to pwnage.) Four hours of practice, though, gets fairly exhausting, but the unpleasant end — a massive loss to the Novice team during a quick-study Morford round on Heracles, followed by some lower national semifinals questions — provided an important lesson in Certamen: momentum builds. Possunt quia posse videntur
is the name of the game. Myth questions for next time make me antsy.
Also, there's prom to deal with. meretricula
, it starts at 6:30, so I'll probably come to pick you up around 6:00 on Tuesday. Which means I have to get a corsage and try and look presentable and all that jazz. It seems like a bit much bother, and there's no legal way for me to overcome the awkwardness of a dance, and a school dance at that. Hopefully, something will slide gracefully out of place and I'll let myself have a good time.
With that, my battery is at 9 percent and I still need to burn a copy of the AP Writing magazine files for eala
. 'Night, all.