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tabular_rasaOne more day 'til vacation,
Then we go to the station,
Back to civilization,
Back to Mother and home.
No, I didn't make that up (God, no). It's from a book read once as a kid. It's just stuck in my head, because it applies.
Anyone else ever read "The Secret Language?" That's what that's from. I'm guessing perhaps not, since it was definitely one of my mom's old books that she gave to me, a paperback from her childhood that she saved and I've never seen anywhere else except my room, the worn, waterlogged copy I have. It was about a girl (Victoria, of course)-- well, really, two girls (the friend being Martha), but one was, of course, more naturally the protagonist-- who attend a boarding school, and they're like 8 or 9 years old or something, I don't really remember, but it's all about their adventures, and-- more important, this being a young girls' book-- their friendship, and how they have a secret language that they share as best friends, etc, etc . . .
Come to think of it, they sort of remind me of younger (and consequently dumber and more frivolous, lol) versions of Lisa and I, off at college instead of boarding school. Lisa could be the calm and sane Victoria-- and, as I remember, Martha was one crazy mofo and came up with the ridiculous secret language in the first place, and also made the two of them dress up as pistachio ice-cream-cones for Halloween, which is certainly fitting of me (only Death Eaters and stuff are totally cooler). She even does that synaesthetic thing that I do (THAT'S the Blue Man Group song, Synaesthetic-- not Tubaphone, Keith, lol . . . ), where the colors and numbers are attached to one another and each have genders.
Wow, that's really weird . . . I think I need to find that book and bring it back with me. Maybe I'll start using retarded words for stuff . . . even though I'm definitely a full decade older than the heroines of that book, lol . . . .
Anyway, disregarding that tangent and back to the point, tomorrow-- maybe-- I go home. I depends upon what Margaret wants to do. I hope it's tomorrow, honestly, even though that will mean driving late, because, otherwise, we will wake up at like noon, being college students, won't get on the road until about 1:00 or 2:00, and then, consequentally, it being a seven-hour drive, will have wasted all of Wednesday.
It's going to be weird going home. Fun-- but weird. So much is different since I was last back.
. . . and they're changing the carpet. The last time they did that, I was traumatized for years.
Then we go to the station,
Back to civilization,
Back to Mother and home.
No, I didn't make that up (God, no). It's from a book read once as a kid. It's just stuck in my head, because it applies.
Anyone else ever read "The Secret Language?" That's what that's from. I'm guessing perhaps not, since it was definitely one of my mom's old books that she gave to me, a paperback from her childhood that she saved and I've never seen anywhere else except my room, the worn, waterlogged copy I have. It was about a girl (Victoria, of course)-- well, really, two girls (the friend being Martha), but one was, of course, more naturally the protagonist-- who attend a boarding school, and they're like 8 or 9 years old or something, I don't really remember, but it's all about their adventures, and-- more important, this being a young girls' book-- their friendship, and how they have a secret language that they share as best friends, etc, etc . . .
Come to think of it, they sort of remind me of younger (and consequently dumber and more frivolous, lol) versions of Lisa and I, off at college instead of boarding school. Lisa could be the calm and sane Victoria-- and, as I remember, Martha was one crazy mofo and came up with the ridiculous secret language in the first place, and also made the two of them dress up as pistachio ice-cream-cones for Halloween, which is certainly fitting of me (only Death Eaters and stuff are totally cooler). She even does that synaesthetic thing that I do (THAT'S the Blue Man Group song, Synaesthetic-- not Tubaphone, Keith, lol . . . ), where the colors and numbers are attached to one another and each have genders.
Wow, that's really weird . . . I think I need to find that book and bring it back with me. Maybe I'll start using retarded words for stuff . . . even though I'm definitely a full decade older than the heroines of that book, lol . . . .
Anyway, disregarding that tangent and back to the point, tomorrow-- maybe-- I go home. I depends upon what Margaret wants to do. I hope it's tomorrow, honestly, even though that will mean driving late, because, otherwise, we will wake up at like noon, being college students, won't get on the road until about 1:00 or 2:00, and then, consequentally, it being a seven-hour drive, will have wasted all of Wednesday.
It's going to be weird going home. Fun-- but weird. So much is different since I was last back.
. . . and they're changing the carpet. The last time they did that, I was traumatized for years.
