Narcissa and River aren't together anymore. Evidently all is cool, though.
Anyone in the Seattle area, check out the Irish drinking song band "Bare Knuckle Boxers" -- their lead fiddle is AWESOME.
Happy Joshian New Year, to all current and former members of the CoJ.
It is now the year 24 AY.
There are 13 entries in his journal, the 13th entry (that I commented to 'cause I couldn't find his e-mail address) says that he woke up at 1:30, and today is his birthday... on the 13th.
Well, *I* was asleep peacefully and dreaming about the vacation where we had to make our train speed to get to the boat launch of the Tolkien-themed river boat cruise that would take us home,and there were skeletons in the pool that the reception desk was floating on, and we were all a little spooked but we hadn't seen them yet, but since I'd read the book beforehand (not the trilogy, the mystery
Azure Lunatic says:
book that was set in the place that we were in, about our trip) I knew they were there...
Azure Lunatic says:
so the girls took the inner bedroom just like I knew they would, and the grownups (mama and fathersir and uncle davy) took the other room that wasn't the inner room and I took the room that was right in front of the inner room and I knew I had a baseball bat
So why do I have a *really* bad and creepy feeling about doing a simple, human, kind thing?
Right now, though, I think I'm just going to shut down and close up and not connect with *anybody* that I don't know to be Safe.
Had to cancel. Three strikes: didn't have Temple schedules as clearly in my head as I thought I did, sick little fayoumis, exhausted big fayoumis (thank A Prayer Before Battle night before last, and then waking up in time to call m'love, and then thank TTT last night, and waking up with Yakky this morning).
We can do this.
Seems to be back on nicely. All the times I've used the water today, I've had no trouble, though the stuttering in the pipes when Nephew turned on the sink tells me that it was indeed off at one point or another.
Ever since CTY '95, I've kept a Shrine of the Cute Guy.
The term has its origins in the hall with the really cool RA at Hamilton 95.2, where the girls put up a bunch of pics of cute guys (or hot, or studly... whatever) on the wall, and affixed a paper (styrofoam?) cup for offerings at the foot of the shrine. Loose change, and other offerings, were put in.
My mother had mailed me some money to use for the flight home, for snacks and stuff, but it had gotten misplaced. I was panicky. So the girls gave me the contents of the Shrine.
Since then, I have kept a Shrine of the Cute Guy to put loose change (et cetera) into. The rationale is this: all donations must be used in some way connected to the concept of or worship of cute guys.
It's amazing, the ways you can justify almost any expenditure...
Running a temperature of 101: no biggie. Is crashed out on Mommy's bed. He's been very quiet all afternoon, and has been duly praised for listening to his body and giving it the rest that it needs.
Mama called. She'd been meaning to call Narcissa... but she called me instead.
I was glad to hear from her.
I miss home.