I despair of ever getting caught up. So I probably won't, at least not until the weekend. On the other hand, I love my new design. I keep flipping to the browser just to stare at it. The joke is, of course, that I am WWST, and the Boy is WWTS (World's Worst Tech Support).
Spent all day trying to write an assignment that was due this morning. Not a lot of luck with it. Once again, I'm reinventing the wheel. At least when I was doing my undergraduate work, I didn't have to keep reinventing the form of presentation with every assignment - I just wrote essay after essay after essay, MLA style, keep it coming, chomp chomp. I suppose it's this flexibility that's supposed to make me a good teacher. Except that right now I couldn't care less about being a good teacher. That's what you get when you push a sneezing girl to the edge.
I am in a good mood about Buffy, however. Invisible Girl did everything I would've done: played practical jokes, manipulated official situations to her advantage and did the succubus bit with Spike. (I also loved the naked push ups!) I haven't been this deeply satisfied with Buffy since Xander was split into 2 and Anya asked the group to delay the unification so that she could have sex with them.
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Train ride: two days of sneezing & honking nose-blowing, only to be made-fun-of by the 4 frat boys immediately ahead of us. Jerks. I contented myself with recalling the work of Jhonen Vasquez and imagined what I could do to them with a spork once the Boy set up distractions at either end of the car. For extra-added body fun, my cycle swung round with comic bad timing: caught without a sanitary device of any kind, I bled into my clothing for over 30 hours. If nothing else, it will teach me to take the Boy Scout's motto deadly seriously.
But aside from that, all was well. Our food stretched most of the way home; I slept at least 6 hours, possibly more; we made all of our connections; and St. Jack was waiting for us in the Montreal station, thus enabling a solid hour of old-style delight. We caught up on gossip and future plans and when I broke down under the pressure of ordering sandwiches and fled the scene, he thought that was funny.
"Still neurotic, I see. Ah, that's okay. So am I."
I was amused because I can't remember anyone calling me neurotic before. I was also amused because his reaction to the Palaver-and-Stacy gossip was the very untypical word, "finally!"
His sideburns are now fuzzier than the hair on his head, something I found unnerving at first but soon got used to. Also, although he assured me to the contrary, he seems to have grown a foot since our last meeting. I'm pleased by the idea that he's moving back to the big TO - one day I'll move back too, and in the meantime he'll be in a convenient city for more visits.
The train pulled into Halifax hours late, a problem compounded by the insanely underprepared baggage handlers at the station. Our solution was uniquely Canadian, I think: several people elected themselves "Luggage Bosses" and called out baggage like auctioneers. This moved things along at an amazing & gratifying clip. (Much to my shame, 2 of these helpful bosses were the mocking fratboys, which caused me to revise my opinion of them slightly upward.) We did in fact make our bus, thanks to some aggressive maneuvering in the taxi queue. Alarmingly, the bus held one of my former students(!) We had absolutely nothing to talk about, which is why I love teenagers - they can't make small talk for shit.
Our house was surprisingly clean on our return, which I don't remember and can only be thankful for. The only new thing was the custom drum case that had arrived for the Boy while we were gone. (The wonderful Jerry was completing it for me during the vacation.) It was lodged in the bed, thus provoking maximum surprise and joy for the Boy. And the bed! Ohhh, the pleasures of one's own bed after 16 days abroad! Such joy is not to be spoken of in mixed company, my dear! Our bed was so comfortable that I woke up with a pain in my hip, as I'd slept too deeply to move. You gotta love that.
And now, to relive that wonderful moment.
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2 years ago today: the bad year
