Muah ha ha.

I so did absolutely nothing over the weekend.

Mostly this was because I spent the time in Benadryl-induced sleep, but it was also because Dad wasn't around so we could all relax.

I watched three hours of cooking shows on PBS on Saturday. Then I watched Nature and a travelogue on Switzerland last night. So now I can tell you all about what kind of wine goes with biscotti, how to make a basalmic reduction glaze for squash, how to grill a $200 beef tenderloin so it isn't fucked up and horrible, brazil nut trees, how everything in the Amazon rainforest is custom designed to kill you, chicken eating spiders, and Interlaken, which has the only steam train that goes up a mountain in Switzerland.

I've been really restless the past couple of weeks. I think it's starting to get on Quinn's nerves. I keep telling him that I'm going to drop out of school and go run away with the Gypsies, or I'm going to graduate in June but after that I'm going to head east and not stop until I find myself in New York again. I told him he could come if he wants to, but he doesn't seem to be interested. He also told me I wasn't allowed to go, and if he went anywhere, it would be to track my ass down and haul me back by my hair if he had to.

Obviously he has no idea what he's dealing with. An around-the-world chase thing intrigues me. I would leave him great clues.

OMG. It would be like Where in the World is Carmen Sandiego, except it would be Where in the World is Feather! Quinn could chase me around and Rockapella could do the soundtrack.

I tried to reason with him, telling him that it would be like Indian Jones at least some of the time. Maybe telling him that I would be Indiana and he would be Markus/Short Round/Elsa the Nazi-in-disguise/Sala was a step backwards.

Today he accused me of being confusing. I accused him of not being on my train of thought track.

"You mean tracking your train of thought?"
"Yep, that would be it. It's hard to follow. It zigzags."
"It also randomly flies off the tracks and floats in other directions."
"It's a magnet train. A bullet train. Honey, it could be like The Mummy! We could wake up a dead high priest and then put him back again!!!"
"...In Switzerland?"
"No. In Egypt, dur. And we can ride ponies in Mongolia."
"Aren't the ponies there the size of trucks, or something?"
"Pssh, no! They're like, small. We might have to get regular horses for the steppes."
"Which would make them the size of-"
"ELEPHANTS! Which is a great idea! We can ride them across the Alps, like Hannibal! I bet no one's done that in years!"

Whereupon he told me that it just wasn't practical. When did he become the practical one, I asked him. You buy a lightsaber and forget to eat. You're everything but practical.

This whole thing boils down to "I want to go and have adventures" and "he wants to stay and make video games."

Of course, he's already been like, fucking everywhere. His mom took him all over the US and Europe when he was little.

Thinking about all that kind of stuff last night opened to the door to major angst (again.) I wonder why TPTB made me an insanely jealous and competitive person, seriously. That kind of shit only leads to unhappiness.

Hmm. This has the potential to get kind of nasty. Worrying thought.

Except it doesn't at all, really. I guess I just want too much.

.

Muah ha ha.

I so did absolutely nothing over the weekend.

Mostly this was because I spent the time in Benadryl-induced sleep, but it was also because Dad wasn't around so we could all relax.

I watched three hours of cooking shows on PBS on Saturday. Then I watched Nature and a travelogue on Switzerland last night. So now I can tell you all about what kind of wine goes with biscotti, how to make a basalmic reduction glaze for squash, how to grill a $200 beef tenderloin so it isn't fucked up and horrible, brazil nut trees, how everything in the Amazon rainforest is custom designed to kill you, chicken eating spiders, and Interlaken, which has the only steam train that goes up a mountain in Switzerland.

I've been really restless the past couple of weeks. I think it's starting to get on Quinn's nerves. I keep telling him that I'm going to drop out of school and go run away with the Gypsies, or I'm going to graduate in June but after that I'm going to head east and not stop until I find myself in New York again. I told him he could come if he wants to, but he doesn't seem to be interested. He also told me I wasn't allowed to go, and if he went anywhere, it would be to track my ass down and haul me back by my hair if he had to.

Obviously he has no idea what he's dealing with. An around-the-world chase thing intrigues me. I would leave him great clues.

OMG. It would be like Where in the World is Carmen Sandiego, except it would be Where in the World is Feather! Quinn could chase me around and Rockapella could do the soundtrack.

I tried to reason with him, telling him that it would be like Indian Jones at least some of the time. Maybe telling him that I would be Indiana and he would be Markus/Short Round/Elsa the Nazi-in-disguise/Sala was a step backwards.

Today he accused me of being confusing. I accused him of not being on my train of thought track.

"You mean tracking your train of thought?"
"Yep, that would be it. It's hard to follow. It zigzags."
"It also randomly flies off the tracks and floats in other directions."
"It's a magnet train. A bullet train. Honey, it could be like The Mummy! We could wake up a dead high priest and then put him back again!!!"
"...In Switzerland?"
"No. In Egypt, dur. And we can ride ponies in Mongolia."
"Aren't the ponies there the size of trucks, or something?"
"Pssh, no! They're like, small. We might have to get regular horses for the steppes."
"Which would make them the size of-"
"ELEPHANTS! Which is a great idea! We can ride them across the Alps, like Hannibal! I bet no one's done that in years!"

Whereupon he told me that it just wasn't practical. When did he become the practical one, I asked him. You buy a lightsaber and forget to eat. You're everything but practical.

This whole thing boils down to "I want to go and have adventures" and "he wants to stay and make video games."

Of course, he's already been like, fucking everywhere. His mom took him all over the US and Europe when he was little.

Thinking about all that kind of stuff last night opened to the door to major angst (again.) I wonder why TPTB made me an insanely jealous and competitive person, seriously. That kind of shit only leads to unhappiness.

Hmm. This has the potential to get kind of nasty. Worrying thought.

Except it doesn't at all, really. I guess I just want too much.

.