Having been eighteen for over a week now, I can firmly state that it doesn't feel vastly different from seventeen. Mum sent a card and called, all apologies for not being here--but she'll be visiting in a few weeks, so really that's all right. She also wants me to come stay with her for a long visit--a month or two, or more. I didn't want to ( Read more... )

I'm trying to tell myself that there's nothing alarming about attending classes in a Nexus-based school.

( Thanks so much, internet )

( The English assignment of dooooom )

Um, not that I really ever have celebrated it, but Happy Diwali!

edit: Thank God for e-cards. >_> Succeeded in sending Mum one before she sends me something.

Lei, here's a picture for you.

In other news, dear god but being grounded is dull.

Well, lovely, now I'm grounded.

Er, what does one do at Parent/Teacher night?

Indivar Herron was born to Oxford professors, May 24th, 1989. His mother is a terrifyingly politically-aware and elegant teacher of English literature; his father is a Standard Academic Sort. They scraped together the money to send him to Eton. All was rosy ( Read more... )

Received email from my mum: ostensibly about immigration laws in some Pennsylvania town, and the discovery of a new species of bird in India; but ending with a so-subtle note that an old family friend (you remember Bobby Lawrence, Indivar, he works in admissions) asked after me and wondered what I was up to these days and hopes I'm considering ( Read more... )