They know about the cabin.
Oooh, a meme.
Let's see... where was I? Oh, yes. The car's water pump was replaced under warranty. And the trip to Raleigh? Slightly disappointing in that, among other things, I forgot to take a bath in the hotel. I mean, I showered, sure (though I did consider using the power of bad hygiene to ensure a short work day), but it's not the same.
It's too bad, because bath opportunities are kinda scarce. Given the number of water-related problems I've had in this house, there's no way I'm gonna try some risky, outlandish stunt like filling the tub and climbing in. The very second I stepped from the tile into the bath, fifty gallons of water and I would, in all likelihood, go crashing through the floor, into the living room, into the basement, towards the core of the earth, and straight through to a field in provincial China, where grateful goats will flock to quench their thirst at the Mr. Bubble-scented oasis. No thanks.
On Friday, there were two tornadoes in Pennsylvania. I can see how it went down:
Tornado 1: Whaddya wanna do tonight?
Tornado 2: Huh? I dunno. How 'bout Kansas?
Tornado 1: Kansas? Seriously dude, that scene, so played. [pause] Hey, wait. Dude. Dude! I got it. Wanna tear up PA?
Tornado 2: PA?
Tornado 1: Yeah, PA. Pennsylvania, dude. Ain't been there in years.
Tornado 2: Ohhhh yeah. Sweet.
Tornado 1: Fuckin' A!
Both: ROAD TRIP!
So one touched down near my parents' place, knocking a few small branches into their yard, while their neighbors had their decks ripped apart and trees uprooted. A local grocery got soundly beaten about the roof and windows, and the high school gym is now an open-air arena. Some houses in the area were also severely damaged by the wind, declared structurally unsafe by the fire department, reluctantly abandoned by their owners, and promptly robbed by opportunistic looters. Well.
Last weekend, I was up at the aforementioned parents' place to celebrate Thanksgiving, and also to help them clean up their flooded basement (water damage runs in the family, apparently). It's easy to hoard things when I don't have to store them myself, and so I spent a good chunk of time sorting through things like letters and high school papers, chucking the boring ones and laying the good (funny, sentimental, horribly emo) stuff out to dry. I discovered a few things:
Let's see... where was I? Oh, yes. The car's water pump was replaced under warranty. And the trip to Raleigh? Slightly disappointing in that, among other things, I forgot to take a bath in the hotel. I mean, I showered, sure (though I did consider using the power of bad hygiene to ensure a short work day), but it's not the same.
It's too bad, because bath opportunities are kinda scarce. Given the number of water-related problems I've had in this house, there's no way I'm gonna try some risky, outlandish stunt like filling the tub and climbing in. The very second I stepped from the tile into the bath, fifty gallons of water and I would, in all likelihood, go crashing through the floor, into the living room, into the basement, towards the core of the earth, and straight through to a field in provincial China, where grateful goats will flock to quench their thirst at the Mr. Bubble-scented oasis. No thanks.
On Friday, there were two tornadoes in Pennsylvania. I can see how it went down:
Tornado 1: Whaddya wanna do tonight?
Tornado 2: Huh? I dunno. How 'bout Kansas?
Tornado 1: Kansas? Seriously dude, that scene, so played. [pause] Hey, wait. Dude. Dude! I got it. Wanna tear up PA?
Tornado 2: PA?
Tornado 1: Yeah, PA. Pennsylvania, dude. Ain't been there in years.
Tornado 2: Ohhhh yeah. Sweet.
Tornado 1: Fuckin' A!
Both: ROAD TRIP!
So one touched down near my parents' place, knocking a few small branches into their yard, while their neighbors had their decks ripped apart and trees uprooted. A local grocery got soundly beaten about the roof and windows, and the high school gym is now an open-air arena. Some houses in the area were also severely damaged by the wind, declared structurally unsafe by the fire department, reluctantly abandoned by their owners, and promptly robbed by opportunistic looters. Well.
Last weekend, I was up at the aforementioned parents' place to celebrate Thanksgiving, and also to help them clean up their flooded basement (water damage runs in the family, apparently). It's easy to hoard things when I don't have to store them myself, and so I spent a good chunk of time sorting through things like letters and high school papers, chucking the boring ones and laying the good (funny, sentimental, horribly emo) stuff out to dry. I discovered a few things:
- High school classes really were as achingly dull as I remember. There ought to be a law against making kids sit through Civics.
- My junior English teacher was a pedantic old toad who docked points for like, ending a sentence with a preposition. I mean, hello? Plz to shove your formal 1950s grammar somewhere inappropriate thx.
- I was a seriously champion doodler. Not so much with the quality, but the quantity is ridiculous. It's a wonder I took any notes at all.
- Man, I really hated keeping journals back then. They were mandatory for some classes, and so I filled most of the entries writing about how I hated keeping journals. That makes this a journal entry about journal entries about journal entries.