[personal log: supplemental - password protected]
/begin recording.
I guess this is what they call a "personal log: supplemental." I'm recording it with the mic on my PADD in the middle of the woods on an alien planet. I'm pretending to be peeing to get a bit of privacy. Though, I bet if I just said I needed a few minutes to do the modern equivalent of screaming into a hole in the ground, everyone would be okay with it. I just didn't want to say that's why I needed to be alone for a minute, for some reason.
Today's my birthday. I'm 22. Nyota remembered, which was sweet. The other Christine didn't know, which is weird. How come we have the same name and such similar backgrounds, but birthdays that are months apart? Bizarre. Leah said she thinks she can do a kind of cobbler or something with some of the berries we've found that are edible for us, so I guess we'll have a little celebration. Seriously, these are the best friends a girl could hope to get stranded on an unknown world with.
Of course, my best best friend apparently had sex a couple days ago with the man I've been pining after for ages, which kind of sucks. It's made things pretty fucking awkward between us, too. I mean, we're close. She cares about me, she really does, and I know she feels pretty shitty about this, and I wish she wouldn't, and I feel pretty fucking shitty about it, and I wish I wouldn't, and...
Yeah. Well. And then there's the whole "stranded" thing. We have no idea where we are, and we're walking towards what we hope will turn out to be a city, and if we're lucky it'll have beings living in it with whom we can communicate. If we're really lucky, they'll have something like warp tech that will help us get back to the Enterprise, which would also make them a post-warp society, which would keep us from all being court-martialed or whatever for fucking with the Prime Directive. Fingers crossed.
Or, you know, it could be some kind of unfortunate sensor blip, and maybe we're all gonna die eventually on some uninhabited rock.
So, not the best of all possible birthdays. On the brighter side, I managed to have some pretty excellent sex myself not long ago, which I do not feel shitty about. And if we do get out of here, I'm sure Nyota and I will sort ourselves out eventually, and, really, my social life is in a better place now than it's been in months, even with this latest bout of intensely uncomfortable weirdness. And apparently I'm getting cobbler after dinner. What's not to like about that?
But I'd better wrap this up, because I actually do have to pee and I don't want them to worry about me when I take too long coming back.
By the way, if I do actually die here and someone finds this log, please, please for the love of all that is holy, don't let my mother hear it. Or my father. I think I would die a second time.
/end recording
I guess this is what they call a "personal log: supplemental." I'm recording it with the mic on my PADD in the middle of the woods on an alien planet. I'm pretending to be peeing to get a bit of privacy. Though, I bet if I just said I needed a few minutes to do the modern equivalent of screaming into a hole in the ground, everyone would be okay with it. I just didn't want to say that's why I needed to be alone for a minute, for some reason.
Today's my birthday. I'm 22. Nyota remembered, which was sweet. The other Christine didn't know, which is weird. How come we have the same name and such similar backgrounds, but birthdays that are months apart? Bizarre. Leah said she thinks she can do a kind of cobbler or something with some of the berries we've found that are edible for us, so I guess we'll have a little celebration. Seriously, these are the best friends a girl could hope to get stranded on an unknown world with.
Of course, my best best friend apparently had sex a couple days ago with the man I've been pining after for ages, which kind of sucks. It's made things pretty fucking awkward between us, too. I mean, we're close. She cares about me, she really does, and I know she feels pretty shitty about this, and I wish she wouldn't, and I feel pretty fucking shitty about it, and I wish I wouldn't, and...
Yeah. Well. And then there's the whole "stranded" thing. We have no idea where we are, and we're walking towards what we hope will turn out to be a city, and if we're lucky it'll have beings living in it with whom we can communicate. If we're really lucky, they'll have something like warp tech that will help us get back to the Enterprise, which would also make them a post-warp society, which would keep us from all being court-martialed or whatever for fucking with the Prime Directive. Fingers crossed.
Or, you know, it could be some kind of unfortunate sensor blip, and maybe we're all gonna die eventually on some uninhabited rock.
So, not the best of all possible birthdays. On the brighter side, I managed to have some pretty excellent sex myself not long ago, which I do not feel shitty about. And if we do get out of here, I'm sure Nyota and I will sort ourselves out eventually, and, really, my social life is in a better place now than it's been in months, even with this latest bout of intensely uncomfortable weirdness. And apparently I'm getting cobbler after dinner. What's not to like about that?
But I'd better wrap this up, because I actually do have to pee and I don't want them to worry about me when I take too long coming back.
By the way, if I do actually die here and someone finds this log, please, please for the love of all that is holy, don't let my mother hear it. Or my father. I think I would die a second time.
/end recording