Fall Break

Guess who's on fall break? Not me, that's who! Although I'm quite enjoying the silence of the student-deprived hallway outside, that's for sure. The few of us here are listening to music, shredding things we never have time/need to shred, or just sitting eating Goldfish and blogging (yours truly!) There is literally nothing to do. I'm to the point where I'm debating whether or not it would be worth it to alphabetize the mail. It's that bad. Although, we did get a Lego catalog in the mail today. Man. Legos are a lot more expensive if you get them in like a five-million piece set. Although I'm seriously tempted to save up for Metalbeard's boat, because look! If I do, I can build the double-decker couch! And that idea is just...the best. Right?

Need.

I'm not really obsessed with the Lego movie or anything, I just like building stuff. Last Christmas I spent the whole morning helping P build her Lego haunted castle thing. Good sisterly bonding time, which consisted of me handing her Lego pieces and her building it while my dad put together the entire turret section. That was an intense project. 

What else... It's my grandma's 80th birthday this weekend, should I send her something? I never really have in the past but my aunt planned this big surprise birthday party for her that I was unable to attend, so what do I do? Send her a card? That sounds good to me, yeah? The last thing she needs is another random tchotcke for her house... maybe I should send her a framed picture of me and C, is that weird? But I don't think she has one... and she would probably like one, right? Is that slightly self-absorbed of me? I just don't know. It's an enigma. I freaking need to finish my cross stitch, maybe I could send that to her. But then she has a random cross stitch... I think I'm reading too much into this. A nice card will be perfect. Yeah. The end. 

Also, I have decided I'm writing a terrible romantic cheesy book and will publish it under C's name so he can take all the flak for it. Good idea, no? Here's an exerpt:

"As she sat on the hillside looking over the river, she considered Eli's various positive physical attributes. His eyes, that perfect shade of Hershey's dark chocolate brown; his smile, the outcome of years of orthodonture but looked mostly natural; his nose, also his father's nose, which granted wasn't his best feature but was finally starting to fit his face; his hands, blistered and bruised from hours of frenetic harp practicing; his hair, essentially volume-less and stick-straight; his arms..."

You get the idea. Bad enough? I thrive on writing bad romantic scenes. It fascinates me. And the sad part is, books like that totally get published. You know they do. I should write more of Eli's story. I feel like he has a tragic past. Frenetic harp players usually do.

Picture for the road?

#donthonorit #imabadgirl

-K