I've been commanded to write. This happens every now and then, on the occassion that a week or so has passed between posts. And when I say it happens, I mean I get an e-mail from either my mom or Dad A, telling me they need some reading material. Glad I'm so popular! (Insert a bit of sarcasm in that last line, as well as appreciation for you both)
But people, it's not my fault that my life isn't all that interesting! Okay, okay...maybe it is my fault. This guy I used to work with, Jeff, once told me that only boring people get bored. I didn't like Jeff very much. But do you think he had a point? In order to be interesting, I guess I'm going to have to go seek out something interesting to do. I'll do that after class, when my homework is done, the laundry is clean, and the litter box is de-pooped (just kidding. I don't do the litter box...that's all Paul. He might argue that they're my cats, too, now, but I counter-argue that I told him long long ago that I do not do litter boxes. And I still don't.). The problem is, life never gets unbusy, so I guess we just have to cram in the interesting things where we can.
But really, what's interesting? Should I learn Mandarin or something? Paint gourds? Weave clothing out of hemp? (Just kidding, you silly hippie-haters) I would bake... In fact, that seems like a pretty good hobby to have, except then I'm stuck with a bunch of deliciously sweet baked-goods treats which will probably result in a rapidly expanding waistline for Paul and me, as well as everyone else close enough to us who can be coerced to consume my experiments in confection. (Am I turning into Mom A? Not that that would be bad thing!)
The other day I saw a part of myself that I don't think I've ever seen before. I've heard it was there, but I just kind of trusted people on the fact. Now hold on, don't go getting all weird on me. I'm talking about the birthmark on the back of my neck. My mom used to call it a chicken bite. Or...a hen peck? Or something that involved poultry-initiated violence on my hairline. Other people get angel kisses, but no; I get attacked by fowl. The point is, my hair is that short, and I love it! ( I know you needed that info, but come on...I'm digging for topics here!)
The woman who cut my hair was tiny. I slouched in a chair that was lowered only inches from the ground, and she still couldn't see the top of my head ["And she was 6' tall!" Chris interjected (insert rim shot here)]. As she attacked the back of my neck with clippers, she made on observation. "You have a really low hairline." Thank you, ma'am. I'm a freak, I know. I'll add that to my list of oddities.
I had a conversation the other day that lead to the issue of my moving here. I've been here for...nine months now, (A human gestation period...just thought I'd throw that in there. Isn't that crazy?), and it has never even once occured to me to regret the move. I love being here with Paul and his whole family. It's where I'm meant to be. True, Port Orchard would not originally have been my first choice (I used to say that I could never live south of Everett. See how well that worked out?), but I'm consistently glad that we chose to stay here.
However, Bremerton creeps me out. I always feel like I should shower after I've been there (and I spend a huge chunk of every day there...in the bad part even). I'm surprised the whole west side of town hasn't morphed into one giant trailer park. Ick. I was listening to two women in my class at OC (I'm embarrassed to go there. I really am), and I just wanted to smack their dumb faces together and ask if they truly thought anyone else gave a crap about their drama, and could they please tone down the dumb, just a tiny bit? Take it somewhere else, ladies. I'm trying to survive the quarter with as few communicable diseases as possible. Whew! I'm glad to have that off my chest...
I don't regret this little life re-routing at all, but I am a teensy bit excited for this weekend, because....we're going to the island! Just overnight, but Chris, Tiff, Hailey and Tayla are coming along, too, so it promises to be a fun, crazy trip. I hope we don't scare my family too badly...it'll be interesting to see how everyone interacts.
Maybe after this weekend I'll actually have something to say and you all can lay off the nagging!
P.S. Have you noticed that I've been way overusing 'just'?