Wednesday, July 30, 2003
Another thing about that movie I went to with Drew Friday: There were a couple of Old People behind us (not ancient, just the beginning of the Boomers -- you know, the world is their oyster. That generation). These Old People (O.P.) were talking constantly to the movie. And not wittily, either. "Go, Seabiscuit!" "Come on, faster! Is he gonna make it? Come on!" "Oh, look, he's sad." Or, sagely: "He's blind, you know. Because of the time that other boxer punched him in the face. Remember when they were boxing?" It wasn't like they were making pithy, humourous remarks, or saying things that they felt about the movie, or even explaining it to their children or a senile person (other than each other), for heaven's sake! I gave Drew a Look. You know the Look. It says, "what in /hell/ do those people think they're playing at?" And then they said:"The Ancient... What? Coleridge, it says..." and I snapped, in some small way, not at their noisiness, but at their noisy ignorance. If you haven't seen the movie (which you could be forgiven for doing, what with big flashy things like Tomb Raider out) then you'll know that Tobey Maguire's character's father was a poetry nut English professor type. When Tobey left home, he gave him a pillowcase filled with books of classic poetry. So, these people not inferring that the book was the Rime of the Ancient Mariner, and then blathering about it, kind of... snapped me. Wanna know what I did? I threw my pop in their faces for being noisy and stupid and ruining my movie experience by talking like they were in their own living rooms!
No, actually I turned around three-quarters of the way and hissed, "It's the Ancient Mariner! The Rime of the Ancient Mariner, by Coleridge. Lord, what's wrong with you people? Shut up!" or words to that effect. Disappointingly, I don't believe the O.P. heard me. And then Drew said, "how did you know that?!" It's not like I've read it. I just know who it's by. Old people. Suburban boys. Classic poetry. Whatcha gonna do?
This concludes today's rant.
No, actually I turned around three-quarters of the way and hissed, "It's the Ancient Mariner! The Rime of the Ancient Mariner, by Coleridge. Lord, what's wrong with you people? Shut up!" or words to that effect. Disappointingly, I don't believe the O.P. heard me. And then Drew said, "how did you know that?!" It's not like I've read it. I just know who it's by. Old people. Suburban boys. Classic poetry. Whatcha gonna do?
This concludes today's rant.
Sunday, July 27, 2003
Back now. It's late. I went to Live RolePlay with Jeanne-Marie and then out to Boston Pizza. There I ate a whole individual pizza and had two cups of decaf. My mouth is very burnt. Then I came home and had cinnamon toast crunch, which was a mistake (though a tasty one) because the little sugar granules totally chafe on the burnt bits of your mouth, which /hurts/. Hey, did you know that if you eat enough ginger snaps, you get the exact same effect? Wow. I'm like a bulimic, only without the purging.
Live RolePlay was kind of cool. As a noob I wasn't given a character, so I had to wear the Pink Ribbon of Not Existing. It makes everyone ignore you, so you can lurk and drift around wherever. It kind of makes the world into your television. Or, at least the game into your television. Only it's three-d. Or something I like that -- overanalyzing metaphors kills them. But it was a very eventful game: two deaths, one shooting, one fistfight, one attempted cure for a virus, and fruitbasketsful of angst.
Ways to kill the summer rerun time: Read Star Trek: The Original Series recaps on TWoP, watch taped West Wing episodes, have a Buffy marathon (again), or -- my heavens, is it allowed?-- go out and get a life. By going to the movies. With inferior men. Though, I realized we can't really blame Drew on Albertan upbringing. He moved here from Nova Scotia. So I guess I'll just have to move somewhere else, to the wellspring of hot boys. Maybe it'll be New Jersey? Who knows! Oh, by the way, there will be a certain drought of entries from me from the first through third weeks of August, because that's when the trip is. *bounces up and down in excitement*
Live RolePlay was kind of cool. As a noob I wasn't given a character, so I had to wear the Pink Ribbon of Not Existing. It makes everyone ignore you, so you can lurk and drift around wherever. It kind of makes the world into your television. Or, at least the game into your television. Only it's three-d. Or something I like that -- overanalyzing metaphors kills them. But it was a very eventful game: two deaths, one shooting, one fistfight, one attempted cure for a virus, and fruitbasketsful of angst.
Ways to kill the summer rerun time: Read Star Trek: The Original Series recaps on TWoP, watch taped West Wing episodes, have a Buffy marathon (again), or -- my heavens, is it allowed?-- go out and get a life. By going to the movies. With inferior men. Though, I realized we can't really blame Drew on Albertan upbringing. He moved here from Nova Scotia. So I guess I'll just have to move somewhere else, to the wellspring of hot boys. Maybe it'll be New Jersey? Who knows! Oh, by the way, there will be a certain drought of entries from me from the first through third weeks of August, because that's when the trip is. *bounces up and down in excitement*
Saturday, July 26, 2003
Wow. I haven't posted in a while, I guess.
Had a date tonight. I suppose. But it was a mistake to lead this guy on: Roxanne finds him mildly irritating, and she's *always* right about those things! (Hey, she was right about Brennan; he is an ass, after all that!) Anyway, said guy (Drew) is... not repulsive. But yes, mildly irritating, and he doesn't know what curry is. In this day and age of multiethnic cookery, how can one not know that? Honestly. He doesn't get jokes, either. "In conversation, oftentimes one jests, or jokes, with one's fellow conversants. It is customary for the conversants, if they are amused by the jest or wordplay, to laugh at these times," is not something one ought to have to explain to people, never mind the meaning of "curry". And last time we went to a movie he took me to see "Charlie's Angels: Full Throttle", which frankly was an affront to my senses and to womankind. Curse this provincial province and its endless hellish suburbs, filled with people as bland as the food they eat! There are some good ones, but most of them are female and thus, not considered snoggable in my personal books. Others' opinions may vary. More and more I suspect there a secret Island of Great Guys hidden somewhere, like the Isla de la Muerta in "Pirates of the Caribbean", that can only be found by those who already know where it is. All the men there are athletic, charming, witty, intelligent, sensitive, good listeners who can cook and love to read. They are courteous without being patronizing and will let you pay for your own damn movie if you want to. They are attentive, supportive, and know that they can rely on you to support them as well. They are also extremely... how to put this? Infuego. Muy caliente. Sadly, there are no guys like that in my particular corner of the Mundaneburb. At least, none that are interested in me.
Or maybe I'm just a picky bitch. Let's not discount that possibility. After all, I could have gone out with any number of man-children by now. Let's see: there's Sean, who's realized he's gay; Ivan, who smells funny and is unpleasantly plump (he's only the second human being I've ever given an acronym -- the first being SOMC, Rory/Mike); and, well, Drew, who is in some respects inadequate but doesn't make me want to take a machete to his skull at all.
MEN! Bah. I should give up now and become a nun. Sister Jessica? Howzat!
Had a date tonight. I suppose. But it was a mistake to lead this guy on: Roxanne finds him mildly irritating, and she's *always* right about those things! (Hey, she was right about Brennan; he is an ass, after all that!) Anyway, said guy (Drew) is... not repulsive. But yes, mildly irritating, and he doesn't know what curry is. In this day and age of multiethnic cookery, how can one not know that? Honestly. He doesn't get jokes, either. "In conversation, oftentimes one jests, or jokes, with one's fellow conversants. It is customary for the conversants, if they are amused by the jest or wordplay, to laugh at these times," is not something one ought to have to explain to people, never mind the meaning of "curry". And last time we went to a movie he took me to see "Charlie's Angels: Full Throttle", which frankly was an affront to my senses and to womankind. Curse this provincial province and its endless hellish suburbs, filled with people as bland as the food they eat! There are some good ones, but most of them are female and thus, not considered snoggable in my personal books. Others' opinions may vary. More and more I suspect there a secret Island of Great Guys hidden somewhere, like the Isla de la Muerta in "Pirates of the Caribbean", that can only be found by those who already know where it is. All the men there are athletic, charming, witty, intelligent, sensitive, good listeners who can cook and love to read. They are courteous without being patronizing and will let you pay for your own damn movie if you want to. They are attentive, supportive, and know that they can rely on you to support them as well. They are also extremely... how to put this? Infuego. Muy caliente. Sadly, there are no guys like that in my particular corner of the Mundaneburb. At least, none that are interested in me.
Or maybe I'm just a picky bitch. Let's not discount that possibility. After all, I could have gone out with any number of man-children by now. Let's see: there's Sean, who's realized he's gay; Ivan, who smells funny and is unpleasantly plump (he's only the second human being I've ever given an acronym -- the first being SOMC, Rory/Mike); and, well, Drew, who is in some respects inadequate but doesn't make me want to take a machete to his skull at all.
MEN! Bah. I should give up now and become a nun. Sister Jessica? Howzat!
Sunday, July 20, 2003
Have just had a really boring day; my second one in a row in fact! Rose at eleven-twenty, ate things, and worked on my scrapbook. Oh, and I walked the dog. With my family. What the hell kind of a teenager am I? It's just not right!
My scrapbook is going to be an excellent commemoration of my honours-student, overscheduled lifestyle in 2002-2003. Gotchyer choir, yer Rangers, yer piano lessons, yer cross-country...
My scrapbook is going to be an excellent commemoration of my honours-student, overscheduled lifestyle in 2002-2003. Gotchyer choir, yer Rangers, yer piano lessons, yer cross-country...
Saturday, July 19, 2003
Making dinner. Dad's chef, I'm kitchen wench. (" KITCHEN WENCH!") We're making a rice salad and I'm doing a lemon-broccoli stirfry thingie. Dad just said, "I must say, corn sounds just the thing for this," and I was struck once more by just how incredibly British he can be. Will he never be thoroughly North Americanized? No? Well, that's okay.
My apologies to Kathleen and Laurel (the sodomites). If I'd known that Mo didn't know, I would never have brought it up. But once it had popped out, there was no way to shove it back in. This applies also to really tight tank tops.
Today has been superboring. Not unboring like the Ikea commercials. Wish the Ikea guy were here now... we could do the "some of you feel bad for this lamp" commercial. It would be great. I bet his name is Lars or Ulrich or something.
Today has been superboring. Not unboring like the Ikea commercials. Wish the Ikea guy were here now... we could do the "some of you feel bad for this lamp" commercial. It would be great. I bet his name is Lars or Ulrich or something.
Back again... Wow. I'm babysitting (I know, evil evil babysitter using clients' internet hours; they said it was okay) and the baby, Lindsay, 7 months old, cried when I put her to sleep but then went to sleep right away. However, I have only *just* gotten the three-year-old, Nicholas, to sleep... Yes, it's 10:20. The weird thing was, he wasn't crying or being unpleasant in any form, just sitting quietly on his bed and making conversation with me and his two stuffed dogs and five toy trucks. I managed to coax him to move the toy trucks to the bedside instead of allowing them to roam the sheets, but then he sat and chatted companionably to me for about an hour, wondering (among other things) why there was a beetle in his ear, and whether we could get the sun to rise earlier employing, for instance, an airplane and a big hook. Children's minds are gardens where many excellent notions grow, only to wilt upon encountering reality.
The long and the short of it is, the asthma is worsened by lying on a bed waiting for a little boy to sleep, so I had to beg off downstairs to get medicine (drat; medicine at home). But now that I'm up and around and doing stuff, the hacking and wheezing is much better. And with one of his conversation partners removed, Nicholas will go to sleep from boredom. One hopes.
The missing conversation partner wasn't much fun anyway: All she ever said was, "The sun will rise faster if you sleep." When did I become a grownup?
The long and the short of it is, the asthma is worsened by lying on a bed waiting for a little boy to sleep, so I had to beg off downstairs to get medicine (drat; medicine at home). But now that I'm up and around and doing stuff, the hacking and wheezing is much better. And with one of his conversation partners removed, Nicholas will go to sleep from boredom. One hopes.
The missing conversation partner wasn't much fun anyway: All she ever said was, "The sun will rise faster if you sleep." When did I become a grownup?
Friday, July 18, 2003
I'm so excited: Elise (that's my sister) and I have the most excellent Tuesday in the history of Earth planned. We rise at seven-thirty, or thereabouts, go to a yoga class at nine, then over to browse around in Chapters, have lunch at the mall (or the Pasta Pantry) and then to see "Pirates of the Caribbean". I promised her I'd take her. It'll be my third time seeing it and her first, but that way I can mutter the dialogue in her ear. So it's going to be super!
Talking in movies is one of those things that I just have to do. It's not an activity I can control. I don't blather, but I make little additions that I feel will improve others' enjoyment of the film. If it annoys them, too bloody bad, because I am incapable of shutting up for two hours, except while sleeping. And even then, I'm told I do a noisy-breathing thing that is almost like snoring, but not quite. Speaking of breathing at night, I was having some difficulty doing just that. Propped myself up on about seventeen pillows, but still had trouble getting to sleep and woke up, coughing, at five a.m. Most unpleasant. But the irritating part is, when I get up and around and do stuff, I'm just fine (that is to say, the hacking and wheezing subside to a more normal level). I love my asthma! It's an adventure in respiratory blockages! Urk, my medicine is almost out, too. More things to do...
I started my scrapbook last night. Every summer for the past couple of years I've put together a big picture book of my Life. Anyway, I think this one's going to take for-bloody-ever because I chose a really complicated way of writing all the titles. It took me about half an hour just to do the front page. "A Year in the Life: August 2002-2003". It'll be good to have something to do other than run. Actually, today I finished my marathon... in less than a month! Go me. Let's see if I can do another one before we go to New Jersey. Hmm, I've got... ten... fifteen days, I think? So that's... just over 2 km a day. We can do that. Yes, precious...
Talking in movies is one of those things that I just have to do. It's not an activity I can control. I don't blather, but I make little additions that I feel will improve others' enjoyment of the film. If it annoys them, too bloody bad, because I am incapable of shutting up for two hours, except while sleeping. And even then, I'm told I do a noisy-breathing thing that is almost like snoring, but not quite. Speaking of breathing at night, I was having some difficulty doing just that. Propped myself up on about seventeen pillows, but still had trouble getting to sleep and woke up, coughing, at five a.m. Most unpleasant. But the irritating part is, when I get up and around and do stuff, I'm just fine (that is to say, the hacking and wheezing subside to a more normal level). I love my asthma! It's an adventure in respiratory blockages! Urk, my medicine is almost out, too. More things to do...
I started my scrapbook last night. Every summer for the past couple of years I've put together a big picture book of my Life. Anyway, I think this one's going to take for-bloody-ever because I chose a really complicated way of writing all the titles. It took me about half an hour just to do the front page. "A Year in the Life: August 2002-2003". It'll be good to have something to do other than run. Actually, today I finished my marathon... in less than a month! Go me. Let's see if I can do another one before we go to New Jersey. Hmm, I've got... ten... fifteen days, I think? So that's... just over 2 km a day. We can do that. Yes, precious...
Thursday, July 17, 2003
Bloody aah! I just told Mo (y'all remember Mo... Mohammed Lootah from Dubai) that Laura and Katie are going out and now he's having a bit of a thing... "How do her parents know? Did she snog the housemaid or something?"... but oh phew he's gotten over it. Now he's questioning the who-how-why's of the relationship.
I do not know what I would have done if he'd turned out to be one of the straight-and-narrows. "Sodomy!!!! Sin!!!!!!!!! Seventh circle of Hell!!!!!" But he seems fine. *wipes brow*
I do not know what I would have done if he'd turned out to be one of the straight-and-narrows. "Sodomy!!!! Sin!!!!!!!!! Seventh circle of Hell!!!!!" But he seems fine. *wipes brow*
I've come back to look at my shiny new blog again. How sad is that? I should be doing my references, as my interview is in like four hours, but instead I'm here again.
If you'll look over to the right, you'll notice I've added a link to my very favourite website, Television Without Pity. If anyone has a T.V. addiction, I highly recommend you check it out. There are recaps of about 50 shows, and forums for each one. Mostly they do dramas and reality T.V., not much comedy because they like to write the jokes themselves (the recappers are gods and goddesses, by the way). The recaps are painstakingly complete and hi-larious! It's bloody great. Watch out for me on the West Wing forum -- I'm known there, as here, as chuckleup,buttercup. And I also linked to Tomato Nation, which belongs to Sars, who is one of the TWoP recapper/goddess/administrator people. Her site is very funny as well, and she certainly has a way with onomatopoeia.
Made a tragic discovery a few days ago: This new cereal we have, which is one of those Uber-Granola things with cranberries and five different kinds of cereal flakes, is actually really really sugary. It's got sugars of various kinds listed in maybe 6 places in the ingredients. It's everywhere! And so I had bran flakes this morning, which taste okay, especially with a banana. Yeah, bran. This is what my life has become. You know, school is what I need. Some people (you know who y'all are) cannot cope with state-run education anymore, but as for me I'm looking forward to going back in the fall. My schedule looks like lots of fun and I have this really awesome social studies teacher. Plus, I get to be in West Side Story and Alice in Wonderland, for musical theatre and drama respectively. So I'm looking forward to it. *GEEK ALERT!*
Anyway, I'm going to run along and get my proverbial house in order for this interview (fingers crossed I'll be working with all the wonderful paper and pens at Staples soon!).
If you'll look over to the right, you'll notice I've added a link to my very favourite website, Television Without Pity. If anyone has a T.V. addiction, I highly recommend you check it out. There are recaps of about 50 shows, and forums for each one. Mostly they do dramas and reality T.V., not much comedy because they like to write the jokes themselves (the recappers are gods and goddesses, by the way). The recaps are painstakingly complete and hi-larious! It's bloody great. Watch out for me on the West Wing forum -- I'm known there, as here, as chuckleup,buttercup. And I also linked to Tomato Nation, which belongs to Sars, who is one of the TWoP recapper/goddess/administrator people. Her site is very funny as well, and she certainly has a way with onomatopoeia.
Made a tragic discovery a few days ago: This new cereal we have, which is one of those Uber-Granola things with cranberries and five different kinds of cereal flakes, is actually really really sugary. It's got sugars of various kinds listed in maybe 6 places in the ingredients. It's everywhere! And so I had bran flakes this morning, which taste okay, especially with a banana. Yeah, bran. This is what my life has become. You know, school is what I need. Some people (you know who y'all are) cannot cope with state-run education anymore, but as for me I'm looking forward to going back in the fall. My schedule looks like lots of fun and I have this really awesome social studies teacher. Plus, I get to be in West Side Story and Alice in Wonderland, for musical theatre and drama respectively. So I'm looking forward to it. *GEEK ALERT!*
Anyway, I'm going to run along and get my proverbial house in order for this interview (fingers crossed I'll be working with all the wonderful paper and pens at Staples soon!).
Hurray! Scratch that! The guest book works after all. Now, signing it myself would just be pathetic ("Hi there, Jessica! How are you today? Lonesome?") so I'll try to leave it be.
This is me, making my sheepish face. I don't know how to put in the guest book. Curses. But it's getting late (ish) and so I'm going to bed. As my father has recommended. And I'll try this again another day. Goodnight, Moon. Goodnight, Fool.
Hi again. It's like five minutes later. Katie and Laura have gone home and Elise has gone to take a shower. I don't really know what I'm going to talk about... there's all this cyberspace to fill up and now I don't really have much to say. The Lbog can't just turn out to be a record of What I Did Today, because I have my journal for that. And I'm trying to develop emotions, like a proper petulant teenager, so expect rants, provided I can work up the anger. Hanging out with Laura and Katie and Bev, as today, I realized that a Zen outlook is... well, tedious to observe, at best. It also makes me an Agony Aunt to everyone else, which is fine because sometimes people need to vent and I really, really like it when people tell me things. Hoarding information about others occupies whole swathes of society, so I don't see why I can't participate. Not like I have any crises of my own to worry about, mostly. I pretty much have a scheduled time for depression: April is usually a sad month for me, because March is so busy for some reason and then I have a whole existential crisis when March is over, when I have time to breathe.
Today's fun included a job interview, for my first "real" job. Ever. I know. And I have a second one tomorrow. Talk about pressure. So I have to get my references together, and I'm bringing my portfolio. Hopefully it won't make me look... you know, sophomoric. "This is Jessica, she likes to snowboard and draw bad cartoons. She participates but doesn't lead, and has no sense of style but many, many certificates."
Also, the indoor picnic took place. It was supposed to be in the park, but it started tempesting, so we moved it to my house. We can't go to Laura's (who lives near) because her parents heartily disapprove of Katie. That is to say, of Laura & Katie.
I have two Katies in my life. They are polar opposites. Which is great for our purposes here, because you can pretty much tell who I'm talking about just by what I'm saying about her. e.g. "Katie made a hugely inappropriate joke about her lesbian relationship today" vs. "Katie was really excited because she got to see a pony giving birth, which is great because she's going to be a doctor (maybe) because she thinks it's the right thing to do and she's taking all the right courses anyway". Now you see...
Walked to the video store just now, because we had *exactly twenty minutes!!!* until "The Pianist" was due back. Great movie, by the way. Really depressing, but great. About the only funny thing about it was how well Adrien Brody's nose would fit in in my family, at least on Mom's side. We're going to see Mom's side (the Lebanese Mafia) in August. Scenic New Jersey! But there's a new baby, and we're going to look at McGill as well on the way back. So it'll be fun, probably. It'll be the first time I've seen my cousin Jenna in... hm... three years? I've seen some more recent pictures, though, and shes'. She used to be a really athletic girl, on about seven different teams, but I guess she's stopped with the sports because she's gained a lot of weight. And her boobs are like the size of my head. So I guess she's the one who got the hormones in the family. Must have stolen mine...
Hm. Life. It's getting kind of late, I guess. I have Interview 2: Electric Bugaloo (as the good people of the West Wing forum at www.televisionwithoutpity.com would say) tomorrow. Hold tight, there's more Lbog madness to come. Or calmness, it all depends on... what... happens. I guess. Maybe I'll even get a guest book for you-all to sound off and babble as much as I do!
Today's fun included a job interview, for my first "real" job. Ever. I know. And I have a second one tomorrow. Talk about pressure. So I have to get my references together, and I'm bringing my portfolio. Hopefully it won't make me look... you know, sophomoric. "This is Jessica, she likes to snowboard and draw bad cartoons. She participates but doesn't lead, and has no sense of style but many, many certificates."
Also, the indoor picnic took place. It was supposed to be in the park, but it started tempesting, so we moved it to my house. We can't go to Laura's (who lives near) because her parents heartily disapprove of Katie. That is to say, of Laura & Katie.
I have two Katies in my life. They are polar opposites. Which is great for our purposes here, because you can pretty much tell who I'm talking about just by what I'm saying about her. e.g. "Katie made a hugely inappropriate joke about her lesbian relationship today" vs. "Katie was really excited because she got to see a pony giving birth, which is great because she's going to be a doctor (maybe) because she thinks it's the right thing to do and she's taking all the right courses anyway". Now you see...
Walked to the video store just now, because we had *exactly twenty minutes!!!* until "The Pianist" was due back. Great movie, by the way. Really depressing, but great. About the only funny thing about it was how well Adrien Brody's nose would fit in in my family, at least on Mom's side. We're going to see Mom's side (the Lebanese Mafia) in August. Scenic New Jersey! But there's a new baby, and we're going to look at McGill as well on the way back. So it'll be fun, probably. It'll be the first time I've seen my cousin Jenna in... hm... three years? I've seen some more recent pictures, though, and shes'. She used to be a really athletic girl, on about seven different teams, but I guess she's stopped with the sports because she's gained a lot of weight. And her boobs are like the size of my head. So I guess she's the one who got the hormones in the family. Must have stolen mine...
Hm. Life. It's getting kind of late, I guess. I have Interview 2: Electric Bugaloo (as the good people of the West Wing forum at www.televisionwithoutpity.com would say) tomorrow. Hold tight, there's more Lbog madness to come. Or calmness, it all depends on... what... happens. I guess. Maybe I'll even get a guest book for you-all to sound off and babble as much as I do!
Hi there. This is my first post. I'm sitting here (not even in the main computer chair, but in the Secondary Blue Chair) with Kathleen and Laurel (the sodomites) and my sister Elsie. OW!!! Elise has just done a Vulcan Knuckle-Grind into my shoulder, because she hates being called Elsie. But this is MY bloody blog, okay? So a little about me: I'm not that old. I'm not that brunette. I'm not that fat. I'm not that dumb. I'm not a Ruskie, nor am I Polish. Not European at all, actually. I contain multitudes... they talk to me sometimes. I don't watch reality TV, except for the news and Discovery Channel and History Channel and all that good stuff. Also Trading Spaces (Yay for cheap home reno!) I am a knob, says Kathleen. Actually, she's called Katie. Sometimes when she's trying to pass for legal, she calls herself Kathleen, because only old people are named Kathleen and no-one from our generanium is. That's my story and I'm sticking by it. Kathleen has just fallen off the Main Computer Chair. Laura pushed her, I think. Or tipped her, or something. Laura is Laurel, btw. Um. Yeah. Now we have a full-scale Noogie Battle going on, complete with gurgling noises. As your impartial observer, I can testify it's a one-of-a-kind experience.
Katie and Laura and our other friend Bev and I just had an indoor picnic. It was supposed to be outdoor to celebrate the Forever End of Laura's flyer route. I didn't actually know we would be doing her flyer route, but I suppose it was part of the celebrations. Laura claims that Katie was supposed to tell me about that particular ceremony, and Katie (after some coercion) has confirmed this. Laura is also taking this opportunity to point out that Katie is sitting on her bladder. Or platter, I don't know. It's all a fog.
But the conversation has moved on. Now we're talking about Simon & Garfunkel and how fabulous they are, with their close harmony and complete sentences. S & G are the inspiration for my little blog's address: The Dangling Conversation is a song of theirs (obviously).
Katie and Laura and our other friend Bev and I just had an indoor picnic. It was supposed to be outdoor to celebrate the Forever End of Laura's flyer route. I didn't actually know we would be doing her flyer route, but I suppose it was part of the celebrations. Laura claims that Katie was supposed to tell me about that particular ceremony, and Katie (after some coercion) has confirmed this. Laura is also taking this opportunity to point out that Katie is sitting on her bladder. Or platter, I don't know. It's all a fog.
But the conversation has moved on. Now we're talking about Simon & Garfunkel and how fabulous they are, with their close harmony and complete sentences. S & G are the inspiration for my little blog's address: The Dangling Conversation is a song of theirs (obviously).
