(no subject)

Ah, the simple joys of break. Burning ridiculous amounts of incense in my room and playing "if I had ten billion dollars, exactly how would I waste it all?" Part I: Gadgets, Part II: Clothing, Part III: Furniture, and Part IV: Dangerous Objects have (mostly) been vanquished; on to Part V: Cars, and then I'll play "if I had enough money to buy all this shit and never had to work for a living, what would I do with my life?"

Although, seriously, this is a very fun game to play. I need some grid paper so I can actually design my Underground Fortress of Doom, complete with more secret passages than you could shake a stick at. (And yes, adding "of Doom" to the end of something automatically makes it cooler. It's like the "in my pants" game, only with DOOM.)

I do think that all this incense has addled my brains. I'm not allowed to burn it in the dorms, so when I get home I go crazy with it. My room will smell like sandalwood for months.

Also, "what are you doing passed out on the floor at three in the afternoon?" / "what are you doing waking up at three?" has never been more appropriate. I can finally sleeeeeep.

(no subject)

Ah, the simple joys of break. Burning ridiculous amounts of incense in my room and playing "if I had ten billion dollars, exactly how would I waste it all?" Part I: Gadgets, Part II: Clothing, Part III: Furniture, and Part IV: Dangerous Objects have (mostly) been vanquished; on to Part V: Cars, and then I'll play "if I had enough money to buy all this shit and never had to work for a living, what would I do with my life?"

Although, seriously, this is a very fun game to play. I need some grid paper so I can actually design my Underground Fortress of Doom, complete with more secret passages than you could shake a stick at. (And yes, adding "of Doom" to the end of something automatically makes it cooler. It's like the "in my pants" game, only with DOOM.)

I do think that all this incense has addled my brains. I'm not allowed to burn it in the dorms, so when I get home I go crazy with it. My room will smell like sandalwood for months.

Also, "what are you doing passed out on the floor at three in the afternoon?" / "what are you doing waking up at three?" has never been more appropriate. I can finally sleeeeeep.

(no subject)

Argh. Went out to Rockville for dinner with mom and my brother (mmm, TGI Friday's rocks my socks), then returned to the car to find that the starter had died. Had to walk half a mile to the nearest Metro station, then sort out the fare card shit and take a taxi from the station closest to our house.

Dude, it's my dad's car. He bought it ten years ago. Any abuse or neglect that is the cause of it constantly breaking down is solely his fault--I've had it for all of three months and already the starter and the fuel pump have died and the engine almost got wrecked from the sludge he left to stagnate in the bottom of the gas tank. He bloody well better be the one paying for repairs--I'm just lucky it was the starter that gave out, not the brakes.

On the plus side, he is taking me out to a couple of concerts tomorrow and Saturday. Mmmm, Mozart and Haydn and Grieg tomorrow.

And the whole "going out somewhere, then not being able to get back and having to take a taxi" is so remniscient of the Russian class trip to New York. We were let loose in Central Park for two hours, spent an hour and a half wandering over to and in the general vicinity of Times Square in search of porn, cigarettes, and tourist junk, then realized we had half an hour to get back and it would take an hour to walk it. So we took a taxi, and it was surprisingly uneventful for a NYC taxi ride.

And we didn't even get any porn, because we had two over-18s in the group but you had to be over 21 to go in. =(

(no subject)

Argh. Went out to Rockville for dinner with mom and my brother (mmm, TGI Friday's rocks my socks), then returned to the car to find that the starter had died. Had to walk half a mile to the nearest Metro station, then sort out the fare card shit and take a taxi from the station closest to our house.

Dude, it's my dad's car. He bought it ten years ago. Any abuse or neglect that is the cause of it constantly breaking down is solely his fault--I've had it for all of three months and already the starter and the fuel pump have died and the engine almost got wrecked from the sludge he left to stagnate in the bottom of the gas tank. He bloody well better be the one paying for repairs--I'm just lucky it was the starter that gave out, not the brakes.

On the plus side, he is taking me out to a couple of concerts tomorrow and Saturday. Mmmm, Mozart and Haydn and Grieg tomorrow.

And the whole "going out somewhere, then not being able to get back and having to take a taxi" is so remniscient of the Russian class trip to New York. We were let loose in Central Park for two hours, spent an hour and a half wandering over to and in the general vicinity of Times Square in search of porn, cigarettes, and tourist junk, then realized we had half an hour to get back and it would take an hour to walk it. So we took a taxi, and it was surprisingly uneventful for a NYC taxi ride.

And we didn't even get any porn, because we had two over-18s in the group but you had to be over 21 to go in. =(