Home!

Oh, guys, it feels so good to be home, and I've only been here an hour!

The house smells vaguely piney and just how I remember, only so much more pungent in its absence as I realize what I have been missing, now.

The stairs are steeper.

My bed is freaking LOW. Wow for lofted beds. WOW. I didn't realize this would look that different, lol . . .

In fact, my entire room seems weird and alien, even though it is totally not that weird and alien or different since the way that I have left it. It just seems older, more fragile, more wooden-- more like a preserved-museum-version of my room than my room itself. It's also so sterile and so bare, really . . .

Weirdest of all, though, is the computer, of course; the keyboard is a different COLOR, even, and the thing is about a million times slower, but, eh . . .

. . . but I am home.

Forget the fruit, Keith. It's sitting in the kitchen with a glass of milk. Milk from a family-sized gallon from a personal fridge, Burger Dairy or something and not those ridiculous milk chugs with the labels that would sooner kill you than be removed and allow you to recycle the container. It tastes slightly warmer, and sweeter, somehow-- less sterile.

HOLY SHIT THAT REMINDS ME I NEED TO GET POPCORN CAKES THEN AND ONLY THEN WILL MY LIFE BE COMPLETE!!!

(I am also caught up with NaNo-- AHEAD, actually, for the first time in the month since the VERY first day, because of . . . reasons . . . lol-- so: WOOT!!!)

Home!

Oh, guys, it feels so good to be home, and I've only been here an hour!

The house smells vaguely piney and just how I remember, only so much more pungent in its absence as I realize what I have been missing, now.

The stairs are steeper.

My bed is freaking LOW. Wow for lofted beds. WOW. I didn't realize this would look that different, lol . . .

In fact, my entire room seems weird and alien, even though it is totally not that weird and alien or different since the way that I have left it. It just seems older, more fragile, more wooden-- more like a preserved-museum-version of my room than my room itself. It's also so sterile and so bare, really . . .

Weirdest of all, though, is the computer, of course; the keyboard is a different COLOR, even, and the thing is about a million times slower, but, eh . . .

. . . but I am home.

Forget the fruit, Keith. It's sitting in the kitchen with a glass of milk. Milk from a family-sized gallon from a personal fridge, Burger Dairy or something and not those ridiculous milk chugs with the labels that would sooner kill you than be removed and allow you to recycle the container. It tastes slightly warmer, and sweeter, somehow-- less sterile.

HOLY SHIT THAT REMINDS ME I NEED TO GET POPCORN CAKES THEN AND ONLY THEN WILL MY LIFE BE COMPLETE!!!

(I am also caught up with NaNo-- AHEAD, actually, for the first time in the month since the VERY first day, because of . . . reasons . . . lol-- so: WOOT!!!)

The Magic Of Snow And Home

I woke up to complete and absolute silence this morning.

Everyone was at work or at school, and so I was all alone at 11:00 (noon, Indiana time) when I finally woke up. Tory and Neil had come in at about 6:00 in the morning to see me, but I barely remember it, I was so tired-- but I do remember I am going to pick Tory up from school today.

On top of the silence of the lack of dorm noises-- no Carol's fan, no slamming of doors, no walking, no vast institution-oriented heating/air-conditioning, no showers, no multitudinous people all LIVING at one-- however, there was also the perfect silence of the muffled nature of SNOW.

I feel like an eight-year-old-- I looked out the window, wondering if perhaps it had snowed, and, indeed, it had-- and I just felt all warm and fuzzy. It's like Christmas.

Plus, I don't have to WALK in it. I can drive (uh-oh . . . this might prove difficult, re-learning how to drive in it, lol . . . )-- and so maybe hopefully it WON'T snow in St. Louis until Christmas, so I can just enjoy the magic of it at home, and not at school, where I have to walk in it.

Home does seem so much more wooden and fragile. I never really noticed how old everything was-- and it's not even really that old.

. . . oh, and, of course, nothing completes the feeling of home like the Truth editorials: Intelligent Design and evolution and God. Nothing changes ^_^

The Magic Of Snow And Home

I woke up to complete and absolute silence this morning.

Everyone was at work or at school, and so I was all alone at 11:00 (noon, Indiana time) when I finally woke up. Tory and Neil had come in at about 6:00 in the morning to see me, but I barely remember it, I was so tired-- but I do remember I am going to pick Tory up from school today.

On top of the silence of the lack of dorm noises-- no Carol's fan, no slamming of doors, no walking, no vast institution-oriented heating/air-conditioning, no showers, no multitudinous people all LIVING at one-- however, there was also the perfect silence of the muffled nature of SNOW.

I feel like an eight-year-old-- I looked out the window, wondering if perhaps it had snowed, and, indeed, it had-- and I just felt all warm and fuzzy. It's like Christmas.

Plus, I don't have to WALK in it. I can drive (uh-oh . . . this might prove difficult, re-learning how to drive in it, lol . . . )-- and so maybe hopefully it WON'T snow in St. Louis until Christmas, so I can just enjoy the magic of it at home, and not at school, where I have to walk in it.

Home does seem so much more wooden and fragile. I never really noticed how old everything was-- and it's not even really that old.

. . . oh, and, of course, nothing completes the feeling of home like the Truth editorials: Intelligent Design and evolution and God. Nothing changes ^_^