And I have a *ton* to unpack. My cute room which was quite empty is now becoming quite full. Woo hoo. Now I must go make sense of the chaos. I hope y'all miss me! ;)
It is absolutely useless for me to say that I don't hate you all--this I know. Because I know Christa. And Christa's weird. And random. And I have no idea where she came up with that question--*no* *idea*. ::giggles::
Goodness, Tracy. You haven't even lived here for a whole week and everyone misses you terribly. Goodness. Be sure to fulfill their every desire while you are down there....
Ah, the cry of separation. Of Desparation. Communicated in that triple compound cry (hey, "triple compound"...I'm a genius) is, uhm, stuff. I'm busy listening to Celtic music right now. Actually I'm busy turning off the Celtic music which attracts me like a magnet's north pole attracts a magnet's south pole so that I will leave my room which I have been organizing, so that I can go organize another part of the house, probably the kitchen which is like two degrees too cold for my taste but I can't do anything about it because our furnace is still broken and I bet my room is cleaner than yours you messy tadpole! You know I had like five tadpoles but the only ones whose names I remember are Compy (his godmother lives in New Zealand, but he was the only one who had a godmother, and my little sister disembowled him with a turkey baster. I was sad. And miffed. She ruined my science experiment. I hate science.) and Eowyn, who was the first one I got and was a tadpole longer than all the others but then she turned into this HUGE frog. One of the other tadpoles turned into a frog and survived till I got him to the pet store, but another one turned into a frog and...I'm not sure, he either drowned or dried out. And another one was busy turning into a frog while we were all gone for the weekend and so died because it didn't wait for my supervision. And the fifth one was traumatized by the death of Compy, his bowlmate, and died of heartbreak. At least this is what I remember happening. I'll have to dig up my 10th grade schoolbox and find my hardcopy reports. I did some drawings too. They were pretty good considering I can't draw. I want to find those too. huh. Well I'm sure the box will turn up somewhere in the house at somepoint.
So, should I buy the tickets from Nebraska to Romantic Island Getaway? I have them on hold right now...
Wasn't there a tadpole diagram somewhere in your Juventutem notes? I seem to remember some such rather visceral diagram on the page of notes at which you were scribbling furiously away.
11 comments:
Now you know what it's like Mary. Gosh, you've only had to deal with it for two days... try a year and a half. It's not any fun, is it?
I'm sorry! I know how you feel. But, she will be back down there in a couple days and then you can bug her as much as you want.
haahahahha
It is absolutely useless for me to say that I don't hate you all--this I know. Because I know Christa. And Christa's weird. And random. And I have no idea where she came up with that question--*no* *idea*. ::giggles::
Christa, what was the basis for such a question?
Where is everyone? Why is it so boring around her? Gosh. Get to moving people....
Goodness, Tracy. You haven't even lived here for a whole week and everyone misses you terribly. Goodness. Be sure to fulfill their every desire while you are down there....
Hey tracy! I hope I can comment without having to have a blog....
this is just a test.
COOL! it worked!
LATA!
Ah, the cry of separation. Of Desparation. Communicated in that triple compound cry (hey, "triple compound"...I'm a genius) is, uhm, stuff. I'm busy listening to Celtic music right now. Actually I'm busy turning off the Celtic music which attracts me like a magnet's north pole attracts a magnet's south pole so that I will leave my room which I have been organizing, so that I can go organize another part of the house, probably the kitchen which is like two degrees too cold for my taste but I can't do anything about it because our furnace is still broken and I bet my room is cleaner than yours you messy tadpole! You know I had like five tadpoles but the only ones whose names I remember are Compy (his godmother lives in New Zealand, but he was the only one who had a godmother, and my little sister disembowled him with a turkey baster. I was sad. And miffed. She ruined my science experiment. I hate science.) and Eowyn, who was the first one I got and was a tadpole longer than all the others but then she turned into this HUGE frog. One of the other tadpoles turned into a frog and survived till I got him to the pet store, but another one turned into a frog and...I'm not sure, he either drowned or dried out. And another one was busy turning into a frog while we were all gone for the weekend and so died because it didn't wait for my supervision. And the fifth one was traumatized by the death of Compy, his bowlmate, and died of heartbreak. At least this is what I remember happening. I'll have to dig up my 10th grade schoolbox and find my hardcopy reports. I did some drawings too. They were pretty good considering I can't draw. I want to find those too. huh. Well I'm sure the box will turn up somewhere in the house at somepoint.
So, should I buy the tickets from Nebraska to Romantic Island Getaway? I have them on hold right now...
Hmm... I wonder about you two.
Wasn't there a tadpole diagram somewhere in your Juventutem notes? I seem to remember some such rather visceral diagram on the page of notes at which you were scribbling furiously away.
::interest definitely piqued::
Um, excuse me, Christa, dear...notebook? Do you normally carry a notebook around with you, and if so, why?
::laughs::
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