untitled

Yeah...can't think of a title. I have too many things to talk about to limit myself by creating a specific descriptive title. However, as usually happens, now I'll probably forget all about the long list of topics I had...

I'll start with my crazy day yesterday. I was on my way to school -- had a one o'clock class, so I left at 10 minutes to one. I'm usually about three minutes late, but the teacher is usually about eight minutes late, so it doesn't matter. Anyway! I made lunch for the oldies, grabbed my bag of books, and headed for the door, completely forgetting that I had a mini-pizza in the microwave.

"Idiot!" I said to myself, sotto voce, and swung back around, carried by the momentum of my bookbag. I grabbed the pizza out of the microwave and dashed out the door, carrying it on one of my mum's good plates. Once out on the road, I realised I was somewhat hampered by the fact that I had only one hand to tear off pieces of pizza so I could eat while I drove.

No, I'm not an amputee -- the other hand was on the steering wheel and I always keep at least one hand on the steering wheel. It's definitely not safe for me to do anything else because I can't even ride a bicycle without using my hands. I see lots of people riding bicycles without using their hands except when they need to turn -- usually spiky-haired teenage boys whose baggy trousers are in danger of being caught in the bike wheels (and if the trousers didn't catch in the wheels, the chains hanging from their waistbands would!). However, I have never been endowed with that particular talent. I can't even steer my bike correctly using one hand!

I can, though, drive a car with just one hand, despite what you may be thinking. So, to get back to my point, since I only had my right hand to eat the pizza with, I wadded the little pizza up into a roll resembling a soft taco and ate it that way.

Was I in a hurry? Nawww...

Well, I needn't have bothered, in any case; when I drove up to the railroad crossing near the school, a train was stopped on the tracks. It just sat there...and sat there...and sat there. I turned around and drove on the back roads for a few ticks, hoping that by the time I got back it would have moved. (Well, all right, I can't lie -- I thought I was taking a different way to school and that I could get around the train. I've never claimed to be good with directions and maps and such, OK? Step off already! LOL!)_

When I got back to the railroad tracks, the train was still sitting there, and I was already 10 minutes late to class. Sighing resignedly, I swung the car around yet again and headed out to take the LONG way to school. I knew I could get there that way, but I also knew it would take a lot longer.

"Whatever," I thought. "I'm already late. It won't make any difference anyway. Just give it some time and she'll be apples!" (Translation: it'll be OK.)

So, twenty-five minutes later, I arrived in time to catch a discussion on the ethics of blogging -- or, rather, the ethics of revealing secrets (such as your name) while blogging. Well, all right, it was really about the ethics of reading another person's blog and using the information you learn there, particularly if the person whose blog you're reading is a friend or an acquaintance.

(I actually did pay attention. No, really. Honestly. Just because I was doing homework for another class doesn't mean I wasn't paying attention!)

So yeah! I had an exciting day! In the next class we had to discuss a book I absolutely hated (Goodbye, Columbus by Philip Roth), and in the class after that...well, suffice it to say that I was pretty much lost. We won't get into that. ;)

Afterward, I hung around reading books (yes, some of them were actually textbooks) and eating my supper, which included a lovely apple. (See apple reference above; guess it was literally as well as idiomatically true!) Then I went to creative writing class, during which we wrote two poems. (Argh...poetry!! Blech! Well, all right, some of it is nice, but very little. And I'm not any good at writing it!)

Then I drove home; there were no accidents (like the other day -- oh, that was interesting!), stalled trains, or annoying little animals choosing precisely the worst moment to dash heck-for-leather across the road. Huzzah! The oldies greeted me with their characteristic, "Ya made it!"

Responding with the characteristic eye roll, I dropped my bookbag and purse on the floor and proceeded to read my latest poem to my mum, who loved it as usual. She's so enthusiastic about everything I do, bless her heart. :)

Today was a fun day too. I worked this morning, 9 to 12, then dashed off to the school's blood drive to see if I could squeeze in a donation before I went to my next job at 1:30. Fortunately I made it back in time -- well, I was about six minutes late, but that's nothing new for me. ;)

I walked in the door and my boss gasped in alarm. "Are you OK?! What happened?" Then she recollected that I had left a message with the office administrator that I was at the blood drive and would probably be late. She insisted on giving me a comfy chair, checking to see if I had eaten, and telling me to take it easy because she didn't want to have to pick me up off the floor. I laughingly assured her I was just fine (which I am), and that I would be too heavy for her to pick up off the floor (which I definitely am), then proceeded to sit by the phone and wait for someone to call (I was at the Tech Support desk -- well, all right, I still am. Yeah, they let me blog at work if no one's on the phone needing help -- isn't that awesome?).

Hmmm...I should probably give you the Batavia Cemetery Report. Yes, we camped out in a cemetery for the weekend. No, there were no ghosts. (And no, I am not crazy, despite masses of evidence to the contrary. Just never you mind.)

It was a lovely weekend in terms of weather. We were minimally busy, so we got to have fun planning and executing a candlelight tour scenario. (No, nobody got executed. You know what I mean. Stop giving me fits.)

The scenario was lots of fun. In case you don't know what they are (Jess, you can ignore this, 'cause you do know what they are), candlelight tours are, well, tours by candlelight of strategic places in the re-enacting area. There are guides with lanterns who explain each little skit or scenario. (They called skits something else during the war; can't for the life of me remember what though...) Our scenario was a gathering of women during the war -- friends, neighbors, relatives -- who were trying their best to celebrate Christmas without their menfolk. Just at the opportune moment, however, the menfolk straggled back home, wounded in tow, to celebrate Christmas with us after all. It was designed to make people cry -- and we succeeded in quite a few cases, or so I heard. Mum wanted a good tear-jerker like the one we had last year. During that one, I got to be quite the prima donna; my darling fiance (who does not, in actuality, exist) had gone off to war and had been killed. I was to hold up a pair of shoes that I had been going to send him, then burst out sobbing at the realisation that he would never need shoes again and that he wouldn't be coming home to me. *sniff, sniff*

And I am pretty much the unemotional female in my family. Hmm! Interesting.

All right, well, I'm all written out for now. There's lots more I should be telling you, I'm sure, but of course I can't think of what that might be.

Oh yeah...I remember one thing. I MISS JESS!!! That's a given. Jess, sweetie, if you're reading this, I will be calling you within the next couple of days, I swear. Things are finally starting to settle down at school and I think I will have time very soon. Forgive me... :)

OK, that's all for now. More later from your errant and very neglectful blog poster...