What do you know, she really does go to my church. (!)
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Another half-hour of ukulele practice out of the way - I can now play "Au Claire de la Lune," and although it may not be recording quality, at least you can tell what song it's supposed to be. I'd call my mom & play it for her, but she's famously wary of enjoying my forays into creativity. It's best not to bother really.
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Weird, sleepy day. Yesterday the Boy & I put away all of the stuff in our suitcases and laundered the gigantic mountain of clothing that somehow accumulated during the 2 weeks we were not in residence. The extra fun part was the whipping frozen sleet that grabbed at the umbrella and created foot-deep puddles of ice & slush...and made us wish desperately for en suite laundry. But as I reminded the Boy this morning as we trekked our groceries up the hill in the cold wind, we'll be looking on these memories fondly after we take up residence in a geodesic dome. And in the meantime we get to feel all tough for living on the top of a hill without a car.
We ended up taking the edge off the afternoon's exertions with a recorded fiesta of Buffy, Futurama & the Tick that comes to us cable-less slugs thanks to my mom. The really weird thing was that we wasted 3 ½ hours before realizing it...which I suppose is why most people feel pressured to get things done. Honestly, I'd never finish another project if I had "shows" other than Buffy. And, well, the Simpsons. And Streetcents. Well, there goes my comfortable superiority - I guess I'm just like everyone else. Swell.
Anyhoo, our late hours led to a very poor set of decisions this morning. When the alarm went off I kept it on just long enough to hear the school closures - and then I rolled over and went back to sleep for 4 hours. At twenty to 11, I woke up for the last time and made a stunning realization - oh yeah, Nova Scotia school board closures don't apply to me anymore. I went & grovelled to my professor, who was far more compassionate than I deserve...partly because she's a fabulous human being and partly because I've racked up enough "good girl" points in the last year and a half to reap some rewards. (Funny, I haven't been a good girl since high school when my attendance was mandated by the state, and I'd forgotten what privileges the good girls get.)
Nevertheless, I have publicly promised that it will Never Happen Again...and even though I promised my Friday morning professor the same thing last week, this time I have confidence in myself. Or else I've figured out how to sound so convincing that I even believe myself. Heh. Either way: good for me.
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Yesterday I was thinking about my time in the Sam the Record Man Boxing Week Sale, and how it was just too much for a little country mouse like myself. I was very, very close to panicking for a few minutes: there were so many people brushing past me, and I had nothing to do to moor me to this place, and I couldn't find my friends...it was terrible. I found Stacy first by sighting her big Jamiroquoi hat in the crowd, and she held my hand until I calmed down a bit.
Which made me think: Stacy's been a lot more physically demonstrative whenever I've been home, and while I'd like to think that it's just because I'm so damn adorable, I don't think the thesis covers all available contingencies. New theory: it's all about Dirk. Not just dating him, per se, but being around him and absorbing the general heartiness by which he embraces likable things. I hug people all the time now, but I was a Christmas-and-birthdays hugger right up until I started hanging with Dirk & Poet, who hug everyone on meeting & parting. You get used to the love and reaching out for it becomes a part of you.
I don't know what that'll do to her invisible armour...but we'll see. I predict good things.
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4 years ago today: [what a] fucked-up day
