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Feather's life, highlights of
Q and I went to see Casanova yesterday. That movie is teh shitz. And the period costumes... *drools, eyes roll back in head* The point is, I need some Casanova icons, and I need them now, before I go into some kind of medical shock.
Life otherwise continues on as it has for the past semester. Which is to say, crazily.
Quinn is now living with Christie and her parents, since they are no longer living at the apartment and are in the process of getting a new one. Hams have been thrown out. Angst has been had. Q at least has spectacular shiny garnet-colored knee high goth boots of DOOM with which to console himself. They make him drastically tall. Like, my-eyes-meet-his-chin tall.
Meanwhile, work calls me and tells me not to come in on Wednesday and Thursday. Thursday morning work calls my house fifteen minutes after I'm supposed to be there, wondering where the hell I am. I make frantic calls from the WalMart parking lot to straighten shit out. This is the kind of thing that happens when the bosses forget to talk to each other. I can just see Audra rolling her eyes, somewhere off in the background.
Other work is functioning normally. For them. Bill gave me a New Testament thinger the other day, explaining very nicely that we're all works in progress. John tells me that I don't eat enough, that I eat too much chocolate, that I'm messy and a child and he can't believe that at my age he still has to clean me up when I eat s'mores on break.
(John. HELLO. I was totally going to lick the chocolate off of my fingers; you didn't have to attack me with a wet paper towel.)
Christie and I went skating at Clinton Square a few nights ago. It was fun, if weird. I haven't been on the ice in about five years. Luckily we got to get on right after they cut it, so we had some smooth ice for about five minutes before it got torn to hell. Some random man with a giant fro stood to one side of the rink, exhorting us to "find a corner and claim it, girl. You just claim it. Those hockey brats will cut your ankles off. They go so fast! ...Cut your ankles off."
I did better than I thought I did with finals etc. Grades were:
Psychology: A
Anthropology: A
Special Investigations: A
Ballroom Dancing: A
Algebra: B
Criminalistics: B
Final Average: 3.6
Made the Dean's List. Whee.
Next semester's classes are as follows:
Physics
French I (with Q)
Watercolors (with Q)
History of Western Civilization
Creative Writing (fiction)
Creative Writing (poetry)
The schedule itself sucks; I'm going to be at school from six in the morning to ten at night on Tuesdays and eight something on Thursdays. M,W,F are reserved for work. This whole thing both enables and forces me to move out. So, I'm moving in with Q, Christie, and Gerard at some point in the near future. My mom knows. My dad does not. GAH. Not a conversation I'm looking forward to.
OMG! It's Friday the 13th. Way to be perceptive, Feath.
Christmas
Quinn and I went shopping for everyone on Christmas Eve. This was one of those DOOM holidays for me- i.e., I've never had a serious boyfriend over Christmas. I don't know what the fuck I'm doing. How to handle presents? At some point during my minor fit over this issue, Quinn logically pointed out that we should just get a joint gift for each family. (Holdiay splitting! I'm becoming a pro at this! Thank god for different dinner times) For his family we got room scent stuff and a Santa candle. For mine we got a candle in a glass holder and a bag of rocks. The bag of rocks was supposed to be a joke gift, but my mother just went into raptures over it. She loves rocks. Loves them to the point that she moved the rocks from our old house to our new one. It was yay.
Dropped Q off at work on the way home from the mall. Then I collapsed on the couch and took a nap parallel to the Christmas tree, which was taking its own nap on the floor. At some point the tree got put up. At six, I picked Q up from work, came home, decorated the tree, half-watched 1941, and went to church. The pook kid just wanted to sleep. SLEEP!!! HA! Not in this household. He's lucky there aren't any relatives around here; then there seriously wouldn't be any sleep.
Christmas was fun. Got lots of stuff- CSI Season 2 from Q OMGWHEE!!!!! "Tiaras" and a cool royal shirt from Kirstin SQUEE!!!!! Jeannette sent me a giant book of Elizabeth Taylor's jewelry. Kelsey got me a necklace and pickles (which were all eaten in like, two days.) Quinn's mom got me a bouncy Christmas tree candle. There are other things, too, and although I'm looking right at the pile of them, I'm too lazy to list them all. I gave Quinn a necklace and the Skeleton Key ST; he got slippers and gloves from my parents.
We went to Q's mom's house for dinner. It was really nice. Quinn got lots of stuff there, and picked up some stuff that he had left there when they moved. After everything was finished, we went back to my house for Chinese food and zombie movies, which has got to be the best Christmas tradition ever. At some point I made cookies. They were very good-tasting failures, however.
Exeunt Christmas. On to New Year's.
New Year's
Got totally, incredibly wasted. I only remember bits and pieces- mainly, the angst over the fact that they kept moving the damn champagne bottle out of my reach.
Had my first hangover ever.
Hangover aside, I had a great time.
....
Is that enough of an update for you? I'm going to start hitting this thing up every day again, or else I won't remember all the crazy things I did when I'm eighty.
Life otherwise continues on as it has for the past semester. Which is to say, crazily.
Quinn is now living with Christie and her parents, since they are no longer living at the apartment and are in the process of getting a new one. Hams have been thrown out. Angst has been had. Q at least has spectacular shiny garnet-colored knee high goth boots of DOOM with which to console himself. They make him drastically tall. Like, my-eyes-meet-his-chin tall.
Meanwhile, work calls me and tells me not to come in on Wednesday and Thursday. Thursday morning work calls my house fifteen minutes after I'm supposed to be there, wondering where the hell I am. I make frantic calls from the WalMart parking lot to straighten shit out. This is the kind of thing that happens when the bosses forget to talk to each other. I can just see Audra rolling her eyes, somewhere off in the background.
Other work is functioning normally. For them. Bill gave me a New Testament thinger the other day, explaining very nicely that we're all works in progress. John tells me that I don't eat enough, that I eat too much chocolate, that I'm messy and a child and he can't believe that at my age he still has to clean me up when I eat s'mores on break.
(John. HELLO. I was totally going to lick the chocolate off of my fingers; you didn't have to attack me with a wet paper towel.)
Christie and I went skating at Clinton Square a few nights ago. It was fun, if weird. I haven't been on the ice in about five years. Luckily we got to get on right after they cut it, so we had some smooth ice for about five minutes before it got torn to hell. Some random man with a giant fro stood to one side of the rink, exhorting us to "find a corner and claim it, girl. You just claim it. Those hockey brats will cut your ankles off. They go so fast! ...Cut your ankles off."
I did better than I thought I did with finals etc. Grades were:
Psychology: A
Anthropology: A
Special Investigations: A
Ballroom Dancing: A
Algebra: B
Criminalistics: B
Final Average: 3.6
Made the Dean's List. Whee.
Next semester's classes are as follows:
Physics
French I (with Q)
Watercolors (with Q)
History of Western Civilization
Creative Writing (fiction)
Creative Writing (poetry)
The schedule itself sucks; I'm going to be at school from six in the morning to ten at night on Tuesdays and eight something on Thursdays. M,W,F are reserved for work. This whole thing both enables and forces me to move out. So, I'm moving in with Q, Christie, and Gerard at some point in the near future. My mom knows. My dad does not. GAH. Not a conversation I'm looking forward to.
OMG! It's Friday the 13th. Way to be perceptive, Feath.
Christmas
Quinn and I went shopping for everyone on Christmas Eve. This was one of those DOOM holidays for me- i.e., I've never had a serious boyfriend over Christmas. I don't know what the fuck I'm doing. How to handle presents? At some point during my minor fit over this issue, Quinn logically pointed out that we should just get a joint gift for each family. (Holdiay splitting! I'm becoming a pro at this! Thank god for different dinner times) For his family we got room scent stuff and a Santa candle. For mine we got a candle in a glass holder and a bag of rocks. The bag of rocks was supposed to be a joke gift, but my mother just went into raptures over it. She loves rocks. Loves them to the point that she moved the rocks from our old house to our new one. It was yay.
Dropped Q off at work on the way home from the mall. Then I collapsed on the couch and took a nap parallel to the Christmas tree, which was taking its own nap on the floor. At some point the tree got put up. At six, I picked Q up from work, came home, decorated the tree, half-watched 1941, and went to church. The pook kid just wanted to sleep. SLEEP!!! HA! Not in this household. He's lucky there aren't any relatives around here; then there seriously wouldn't be any sleep.
Christmas was fun. Got lots of stuff- CSI Season 2 from Q OMGWHEE!!!!! "Tiaras" and a cool royal shirt from Kirstin SQUEE!!!!! Jeannette sent me a giant book of Elizabeth Taylor's jewelry. Kelsey got me a necklace and pickles (which were all eaten in like, two days.) Quinn's mom got me a bouncy Christmas tree candle. There are other things, too, and although I'm looking right at the pile of them, I'm too lazy to list them all. I gave Quinn a necklace and the Skeleton Key ST; he got slippers and gloves from my parents.
We went to Q's mom's house for dinner. It was really nice. Quinn got lots of stuff there, and picked up some stuff that he had left there when they moved. After everything was finished, we went back to my house for Chinese food and zombie movies, which has got to be the best Christmas tradition ever. At some point I made cookies. They were very good-tasting failures, however.
Exeunt Christmas. On to New Year's.
New Year's
Got totally, incredibly wasted. I only remember bits and pieces- mainly, the angst over the fact that they kept moving the damn champagne bottle out of my reach.
Had my first hangover ever.
Hangover aside, I had a great time.
....
Is that enough of an update for you? I'm going to start hitting this thing up every day again, or else I won't remember all the crazy things I did when I'm eighty.