SO: Christmas break basically means staying up until five every night watching copious amounts of mind enchanting anime, sneaking out to Whataburger for HONEYBUTTERCHICKENBISCUITS?! first introduced to me by MISH-L… IS NOT DEAD, and a lot of forgetting to eat, then remembering a bit too much.
I can tell I’m getting old. None of the ornaments have left the location I assigned them two weeks ago (to travel into the mystical lair of the Death Fairy and Peace Dove, also known as behind the tree and between the LED lights), and none of the little towns’ pine trees were shoved in the tiny, ceramic windows until tonight. And, my parents were downstairs hours before me and Grace could be bothered to trot down, AND AND AND, they didn’t even pretend that Santa came. I mean… I’ve known he was a phony since kindergarden… But, not even a pathetic illusion? I had no idea that would disappoint me so much. Hah. I’m lame.
Anyway… There’s a lot of stories and news to share… So maybe I’ll just save it for next time we talk. (Murrhah! I could be talking to ANYONE reading this! You! WOW. This power always amazes me. Your eyes! They are open! Bitch. Getting all blinky on me.)
GOT: 35mm f/1.8 lens (fantastic), weird piece of plastic from my dad (that’s actually pretty useful for diffusing built-in flash), and a plushie representation of Zuko (!!!) after a particularly bad fist fight from Rachel. (Not meaning that Rachel gets into fights with the Fire Lord.) BUT, THIS SAME LORD OF FIRE I can now cuddle fiercely with, without being deafened by battle cries. (Or cuddling with air, as the story holds.) THIS PARAGRAPH HURTS MY SOUL TO READ, SORRY.
Like cousins. Hate soggy ham. Like Naruto. Dislike contact induced headaches. LIKELIKELIKE the color my eyes turn while wearing the headache inducing contacts. Hate…. uh. Like grasshopper pie. Like my aunt’s strange hour long stories about kids on leashes. Like petting life-size, flaking zoo animals. Like our tradition of NOT going to Katzasasas. No more toothpaste sandwiches for us! Like creeping on Dan’s friends’ flickr and kickass profession.
ANYWAY. I had a vision yesterday of exactly where I want to work to. I see myself in front of a group of college/ highschool kids. Hair down, uncombed, loud floral tights, unshod, water nation symbol tattooed onto the neck flesh just below my left ear, eyes tentatively serious, lips glow-in-the-dark cherry red, a green bubble pipe resting between my sharp teeth. As they file in, I watch them, chewing contently on the tip of my pipe. Each let their apprehensive eyes dart about, finding people to exchange a few quick words with, then, one by one, they inch into their hard plastic chairs. Then I uncross my legs, blow exactly three bubbles from my pipe, and announce (in a remarkably serious tone for Mallory), “Welcome.”
Yes, I think that goal suits me for now.