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May. 16th, 2002 02:13 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
dragonlady7man, i have so much to pack.
so so so much.
this weekend i'm getting rid of all my plants (my mom is taking them)-- that's more plants than she realizes, i know... i hope they all make it ok.
i'm trying to decide whether i should pack stuff I'll need first or last. First means it's all sure to be organized. But. Sheesh, I don't know.
I think I'll clean off the porch, throw out whatever's there, and start assembling boxes of my stuff there.
hm, there are things i own that i don't want my parents to see... i wonder where i should pack those... always tricky.
computer stuff packed last; i'll take that in my own car.
no, i know i'll want to reserve too much stuff to go in my car.
well. that's a hazard i'll have to take. might want to pack my car first.
hmm....
so spent yesterday doing english department things. the english department is CRAZY. All of them.
I've got a bunch of photos; i'll post some later. Funny stuff. Prof. Peck ran into Lake Ontario with all his clothes on, including shoes, just as usual... insanity.
Stopped by fencing practice to drop off Pat's #*(&%#*@!! stuff... "here, drop this off at UR, can you?" three foils, two jackets, three lames, an underarm protector, knickers, a mask... heavy!!
Miss Elgin gleefully announced a going-away party for a certain departing Eli McGinty-- she wants a copy of this photo I took to put on top of a cake.::
Then went to prof. Hahn's, where much hilarity ensued. (among the items discussed: http://www.psychoexgirlfriend.com :thanks to Jen) Good class, that honors seminar. And the chair of the English Dep't, who cohabitates with Hahn, told several amusing stories, including on that involved her mocking a reading of biker poetry containing the line "oh fuck me fuck me fuck me fuck me"... right as three students came in the door, having missed the entire rest of the story. They stood immobile and blinking for a few moments...
then moved on towards the wine table, rapidly.
I got home after dark, but before the hockey game... and something really weird happened... but i'll talk about that in a bit. the game was great-- game 7 of the Avs/Sharks series. I missed the first period because I was upstairs in my room, blinking with shock as i uploaded the digital pics from the english dep't picnic/events. But I came down in time to see Forsberg's lone goal. Forsberg is cool. The best part, I think, was the interview at the end, where they talked to him, and I realized I'd never heard his voice. It was a lot higher than I thought, and very Swedish-- he sounded slightly Minnesotan. He actually said the word "wictory"...
as you may guess the Avs won, a 1-0 shutout, that was as brutal as the Avs get. Teemu Salanne damn near broke Forsberg's left hand with his stick, on purpose; Foote and Nolan got in a fistfight, etc. It was entertaining.
Interestingly, the only time I've ever seen the Avs coach smile was tonight, after the Sharks had made several uncalled dirty hits on his players and the Denver crowd was booing lustily; they showed the Avs coach (whose name eludes me) standing with his arms folded and the tiniest smile on his face.
Now I know why he doesn't smile; he just looked so evil.
So I got home from this english dep't thing and i went upstairs to upload the pictures i'd took, as i'd promised them to several people, and I didn't see anyone, but the shower was going. I figured Two Left Feet* was probably in his room, and DW* was in the shower, as DW's door was open and TLF's closed (usual)... though, dw usually showers in the mornings, and i can't blame him with his crazy hair; it takes a whole shower to get it to sit down.
Anyhow. I was sort of bored, and in no hurry to get the pictures started, so I sat down on the bench/trunk in the hallway to play with my camera and preview my pictures and everything.
I could hear a voice, like whoever was in the shower was talking or singing to himself, which I found highly unusual; neither of the boys is much given to that. Strange. Maybe only one of them was home, and was singing to himself because he thought he was alone. (How would I know what they do when i'm not here?)
So after a while, the water stops, there's much thumping around of things, I decide it must be Two Left Feet* because he's obviously knocking everything in the bathroom over, and (bizzarrely) laughing at himself. It occurs to me that he may be drunk, though I have no idea why; last time I saw him he was off to the senior picnic, and who knows what goes on there. So I sit there giggling to myself at how silly he must be. Finally the door opens, and TLF, sure enough, stumbles out, and stops dead when he sees me. He blushes, unaccountably, fumbles with his towel, pulls the bathroom door shut behind him, trips, slams into his own door, fumbles it open, goes through into his room, tripping on the mess, and slams it shut behind him. I laugh at him, but he doesn't seem drunk, just... embarrassed. Probably because he was singing to himself and I overheard, but he's not usually so self-conscious.
I'm mildly annoyed about the bathroom door being shut; it's general policy here to leave it open so you can tell it's not in use, except when a really nasty shit has been taken. I decide the latter must be the case, and am standing up to go into my room (obviously there's no more entertainment for me here, at the moment) thinking that dw must be asleep (his truck is in the driveway) and will probably want to be woken up for the hockey game, which is starting now, when -- the bathroom door opens again, and DW comes out.
I turn around and stare at him in utter disbelief. I was watching the door; he didn't go in after TLF left. DW sees me, and grins hugely, in that totally disconcerting way that only he can.
...
So I spent a while uploading those pictures, those nice safe normal pictures of the English department, pretending to kill inflatable dragons with reproduction SCA swords, then kissing said inflatable dragons... me sitting on Dustin's motorbike pretending to be going 100 miles an hour... etc.
Eventually DW pattered past, in that hyperactive way he has, and galumphed down the stairs going "hockey hockey hockey", and I thought OK, i'm going to go watch hockey. i understand hockey, hockey is normal.
and it was a great game.
but watched in total silence. nearly.
;p
*someone suggested i not use names anymore. i'm trying it.
so so so much.
this weekend i'm getting rid of all my plants (my mom is taking them)-- that's more plants than she realizes, i know... i hope they all make it ok.
i'm trying to decide whether i should pack stuff I'll need first or last. First means it's all sure to be organized. But. Sheesh, I don't know.
I think I'll clean off the porch, throw out whatever's there, and start assembling boxes of my stuff there.
hm, there are things i own that i don't want my parents to see... i wonder where i should pack those... always tricky.
computer stuff packed last; i'll take that in my own car.
no, i know i'll want to reserve too much stuff to go in my car.
well. that's a hazard i'll have to take. might want to pack my car first.
hmm....
so spent yesterday doing english department things. the english department is CRAZY. All of them.
I've got a bunch of photos; i'll post some later. Funny stuff. Prof. Peck ran into Lake Ontario with all his clothes on, including shoes, just as usual... insanity.
Stopped by fencing practice to drop off Pat's #*(&%#*@!! stuff... "here, drop this off at UR, can you?" three foils, two jackets, three lames, an underarm protector, knickers, a mask... heavy!!
Miss Elgin gleefully announced a going-away party for a certain departing Eli McGinty-- she wants a copy of this photo I took to put on top of a cake.::
Then went to prof. Hahn's, where much hilarity ensued. (among the items discussed: http://www.psychoexgirlfriend.com :thanks to Jen) Good class, that honors seminar. And the chair of the English Dep't, who cohabitates with Hahn, told several amusing stories, including on that involved her mocking a reading of biker poetry containing the line "oh fuck me fuck me fuck me fuck me"... right as three students came in the door, having missed the entire rest of the story. They stood immobile and blinking for a few moments...
then moved on towards the wine table, rapidly.
I got home after dark, but before the hockey game... and something really weird happened... but i'll talk about that in a bit. the game was great-- game 7 of the Avs/Sharks series. I missed the first period because I was upstairs in my room, blinking with shock as i uploaded the digital pics from the english dep't picnic/events. But I came down in time to see Forsberg's lone goal. Forsberg is cool. The best part, I think, was the interview at the end, where they talked to him, and I realized I'd never heard his voice. It was a lot higher than I thought, and very Swedish-- he sounded slightly Minnesotan. He actually said the word "wictory"...
as you may guess the Avs won, a 1-0 shutout, that was as brutal as the Avs get. Teemu Salanne damn near broke Forsberg's left hand with his stick, on purpose; Foote and Nolan got in a fistfight, etc. It was entertaining.
Interestingly, the only time I've ever seen the Avs coach smile was tonight, after the Sharks had made several uncalled dirty hits on his players and the Denver crowd was booing lustily; they showed the Avs coach (whose name eludes me) standing with his arms folded and the tiniest smile on his face.
Now I know why he doesn't smile; he just looked so evil.
So I got home from this english dep't thing and i went upstairs to upload the pictures i'd took, as i'd promised them to several people, and I didn't see anyone, but the shower was going. I figured Two Left Feet* was probably in his room, and DW* was in the shower, as DW's door was open and TLF's closed (usual)... though, dw usually showers in the mornings, and i can't blame him with his crazy hair; it takes a whole shower to get it to sit down.
Anyhow. I was sort of bored, and in no hurry to get the pictures started, so I sat down on the bench/trunk in the hallway to play with my camera and preview my pictures and everything.
I could hear a voice, like whoever was in the shower was talking or singing to himself, which I found highly unusual; neither of the boys is much given to that. Strange. Maybe only one of them was home, and was singing to himself because he thought he was alone. (How would I know what they do when i'm not here?)
So after a while, the water stops, there's much thumping around of things, I decide it must be Two Left Feet* because he's obviously knocking everything in the bathroom over, and (bizzarrely) laughing at himself. It occurs to me that he may be drunk, though I have no idea why; last time I saw him he was off to the senior picnic, and who knows what goes on there. So I sit there giggling to myself at how silly he must be. Finally the door opens, and TLF, sure enough, stumbles out, and stops dead when he sees me. He blushes, unaccountably, fumbles with his towel, pulls the bathroom door shut behind him, trips, slams into his own door, fumbles it open, goes through into his room, tripping on the mess, and slams it shut behind him. I laugh at him, but he doesn't seem drunk, just... embarrassed. Probably because he was singing to himself and I overheard, but he's not usually so self-conscious.
I'm mildly annoyed about the bathroom door being shut; it's general policy here to leave it open so you can tell it's not in use, except when a really nasty shit has been taken. I decide the latter must be the case, and am standing up to go into my room (obviously there's no more entertainment for me here, at the moment) thinking that dw must be asleep (his truck is in the driveway) and will probably want to be woken up for the hockey game, which is starting now, when -- the bathroom door opens again, and DW comes out.
I turn around and stare at him in utter disbelief. I was watching the door; he didn't go in after TLF left. DW sees me, and grins hugely, in that totally disconcerting way that only he can.
...
So I spent a while uploading those pictures, those nice safe normal pictures of the English department, pretending to kill inflatable dragons with reproduction SCA swords, then kissing said inflatable dragons... me sitting on Dustin's motorbike pretending to be going 100 miles an hour... etc.
Eventually DW pattered past, in that hyperactive way he has, and galumphed down the stairs going "hockey hockey hockey", and I thought OK, i'm going to go watch hockey. i understand hockey, hockey is normal.
and it was a great game.
but watched in total silence. nearly.
;p
*someone suggested i not use names anymore. i'm trying it.
