I’m not a big fan of quizzes and the like, but I thought this one was cute, particularly the “we are vicicously beating those responsible for your insecurity” bit. (Quiz found via Hannah.)
See the end for added question sets.
1.) What would it take to get you to hop on one foot and pat your head and rub your tummy?
It would probably take more alcohol than I would be willing to consume. Since I don’t drink at all, I can’t give you a more exact figure than that. Maybe a few whiffs of that permanent marker could do it, though.
2.) So, where would you (and I want the truth) like to have the Thorn banquet?
It’s been another long week, but it’s over, and the less said on it, the better. Except for the fact that Mae is sick and didn’t get the Sophomore Advisor spot, which means she’s feeling miserable and second-guessing herself left and right. She’s also avoiding me, because I threatened to straight-jacket her ass into a hospital if she’s still sick today. Or to call her mother. I’m just trying to pass chemistry, understand Calculus, run my three pages of the newspaper, and get a little sleep–and in that order, it seems.
Mae and I didn’t go to the formal last night. Her stomach virus was still hitting her full force, and I was just tired and turning my frustrations with the newspaper around and around in my head, mentally trying different solutions and ultimately rejecting them. I made sure she was in bed with phone numbers for my cell and the Thorn office, then headed down to the Thorn office to do chemistry and brainstorm ways to fix my current dilemma with the newspaper.
I was woken up this morning by my mother calling me. This was good, since it was 08:30, and I’d wanted to get up at 05:00. Few hours difference there. She expressed worry over my mental state, but who the hell sounds any kind of decent right out of bed? Morning breath, full bladder, hunger, fatigue, and worry over the rapidly disappearing weekend hours do not make for good morning chatter. I love her anyway, though, because she and the Old Man sent money. (Yeah, yeah, I know I complain when they send money normally, but we’re talking “bank accounts about to be suspended” kind of broke here, lately.)