they called! the school, that is, and left a message while i was doing a massage, and i got in! only one guy approved me. thanks, mister! not that he reads this website. YET.
that was a pretty thrilling thing. now i have to be in going back to school mode. what about new school clothes? school supplies? is there a list of stuff i’ll need, books i have to buy? how will that happen? before classes? should i get paste? pencils? what?
i think it used to be fun buying back to school clothes.
i AM going to buy a new pair of jeans, because randy bought me a pair for my birthday except they were way too big and very unflattering, and so he has to get me another one. we tried to find a pair once, but i think now maybe we’ll actually find a pair i’ll be willing to purchase. to have randy purchase.
things are going pretty well now, i have to say. except for the things that aren’t going well at all, they’re the things that i’m starting to give up all hope on. you can read all about it if you find the SECRET PLACE here in the website. but even if you found it, you’d have to have the secret password.
secret place, christine, what do you say?
she said that in order to re-break her nose, they had to stick something up it and break it FROM THE INSIDE. i guess that makes sense; you wouldn’t want to whack her on the nose with a hammer or something. but what exactly did they use? and who decided that that’s the best way to re-break a nose? and are there other body parts that might need to be re-broken on people, like what about your arm? you couldn’t very well stick something inside it to re-break it, now could you; you’d have to use a hammer!
i’m glad i’ve never wanted to be a doctor.
ok, now DO NOT STEAL THIS GREAT TV SHOW IDEA, but here it is, i was talking to a friend today, who said her mom had a parrot who died, but now it’s stuffed and sitting on a shelf. i said, what if they did that with people? and we started talking about a show where you’d have your deceased husband or wife, say, and you could take them around with you, or you could pose them in their usual positions, like in front of the TV. actually, it was my friend who thought this would be a good reality show; it seems slightly static to me. you place your dead husband in front of the TV, but then what? hmm, it needs some work.
she did have another idea, though, that sounds more promising – i said i’d like to be married someday, and she said a good reality show would be to have a single person trade places with a married person (she’s married). and she was SURE that the single person would BEG to return to her single life. and that the married person would not want the husband back.
i guess if i was able to be objective and analytical, i could look at my life and decide that it’s really pretty good.
but of course i’m rarely objective, and never analytical.
time is slipping away from me tonight. i need to finish my garrison keillor book. a friend told me that he actually lived in new york for a while, after quitting “prairie home companion” for a while. and she said he married a scandinavian woman. in the book, he has a short affair with a danish woman. hmm, maybe there’s more autobiography here than i thought.
i’m part danish.
i don’t know what else. a little german, maybe. english?
i’d like to go to denmark someday. in the keillor’s book, he goes to copenhagen and rides a bike a lot. i’d like to do that. i’ll look into it. and not “someday,” SOON.
today i met a man who just went rafting down the colorado river in the grand canyon, and on friday he leaves to lead a cycling tour at the finger lakes in ny. this all sounds good, except for the rafting.
the chiggers itch every night. i may yet have to amputate.
ok then,
grace resigned and still pretty darn neutral.
p.s. when i do have my secret uncensored portion to this website (if it’s not there already), there will be lots more swearing. in real life, sometimes i swear a lot. if i get mad, i don’t yell or anything, but i say things like “i hate that f***ing” f***er SO MUCH because he’s so completely unreasonable and acts like an a*****e.”
much more swearing. it’s more who i am. who i am when i’m mad, that is, which of course isn’t much to speak of. except the other morning i was driving down sixth street, and you have to merge into one lane before the hoogland arts center because they’re digging up the street (i hear it’s going to take till the end of time), and i needed to merge, i had on my turn signal, and this A****LE in a big white truck, i think it was a CITY truck, WOULD NOT LET ME IN. he kept roaring closer and closer to me, so i didn’t get to merge, and i had to pull in behind him…and i was so mad that i yelled YOU F***ER and then i FLIPPED HIM OFF!
and then i was completely horrified at myself. what made me do this? sometimes, when i drove in LA, i’d bang on my steering wheel and yell in frustration, but that’s just the way you drive there, it’s part of the complete LA driving experience. but here in spfld, nothing is ever that critical.
perhaps it was my mood that morning.
won’t happen again.
probably.
that’s all, for real now.