Take a graham cracker, put nutella on it. Then take another graham cracker and put marshmallow fluff on it. Proceed to make nutella-fluff sandwich. Consume.
I suppose it would work just as well with bread…
Anyone? My writing has ceased because of this quandary.
A real woman would never marry an inapprioprate guy, ‘cause real women are just too sharp not to recognize who is who.
A real man, on the other hand, would never marry a girl, ‘cause real men are aware of that deliberate doing you-know-what to an immature female should be regarded as a crime. Just as pedophilia is. Sorry, I can see no difference between the two. That’s completely awful for a mature male. If I did such a thing, the next what I would presumably do is vomiting.
I’m not married yet, but you see… in fact, I managed to beat all of my psychological problems BEFORE marriage. And I bet that’s the only way. What was the clue that turned out to be the crux of the matter? Well, not one. A couple of clues. Being mature is a complex thing.
And for sure, if we talk about ‘being in another league’ or someting like this… well, telling frankly, I bet all of that is a giant mistake. Mature people do not think in this way. Being in one or another league is actually not about who are you regarded as, at all. It’s about who you really are.” —Random Internet comment. I actually found it interesting rather than offensive or inane.
For my NaNo novel, in the inevitable dream sequence (come on, at least a 2k freebie) one of the characters ends up in a sort of parallel world in which almost everyone else is dead. In this world, she sees a garden that exists in her own world. In this one though, there are only wildflowers. Of course, knowing nothing about botany meant I had to look up wildflowers on the internet. And so I did. I stumbled across a wordpress blog of someone homeschooling their children, which was awfully convenient. They compiled a list of all the wildflowers that they had identified. It’s good to know that someone is making science a focus while homeschooling. (http://wheremytreasureis.wordpress.com/category/homeschool/)
Anyway, field bindweed is my favorite so far. As it turns out, I actually like learning the names of all the flowers I had a chance to see growing up.
You can ask me anything and I’ll answer honestly, but only with yes or no.
The ultimate way to troll followers and anons. Feel free to ask anything.
Because I intensely dislike interaction with my family, I decided it would be best to boycott going home for all the holidays. Come winter break, I’ll be leaving at least a week late. Or something. Because really, who wants to drive seven hours and pay one hundred dollars to spend time with people they don’t even like? Exactly.
The plan was that I would spend an entire week in a dorm with absolutely no one else around. Except the foreign exchange students, and they don’t speak English most of the time. I was going to be living off of frozen dinners and drink my tears of boredom.
Instead, my roommate brought me back with her. Let me preface this by saying, I’m poor. Like, oh today I don’t get to eat poor. So, I bumbled my way into college and received financial aid. But, I still couldn’t pay for an entire week of food. Now, my roommate is…you know occupy? Well, if she’s not the 1% she’s (at least) the top 10%. It’s kind of funny, that juxtaposition. Even more funny, she’s way fucking nicer than a lot of the 99% “average middle class” people I know. You heard it here, having wealth and being a good person aren’t mutually exclusive.
But somehow I ended up staying in a house off of Lake Michigan with her family. I really like her family. They’re very nice people, and they don’t seem dysfunctional. I can tell they all love each a lot. And rather than this making me envious of my friend or how her family actually is one, it just makes me really fucking glad I’m not going home for a week. Dear god, I would probably end up driving back to school the day after Thanksgiving if I had to put up with everyone related to me.
There was a point to this…oh yeah. My friend gave me a tour of her entire house, mostly so that I would know where everything is. That night, I got lost briefly because I took a left instead of a right. My friend retrieved a blanket behind a set of doors in their basement and later, thinking it was a linen closet or something, I opened the doors. And then I remembered that it was a movie theater. When I tried to shower in the guest bathroom, I realized that they had a foreign shower. As in, the water knob for temperature was marked by degrees…in Celsius.
The architecture of the house is amazing. I haven’t gone around and literally counted, because hey, I don’t want to be crass, but from my mental map, they have two living rooms and a parlor. Two dining rooms. A sauna and a movie theater. Two bars. Another living room used as a gaming area. Three staircases. Seven bathrooms (five full and two half). And six bedrooms. An office-library with a gliding ladder. A three car garage. And four balconies. So yeah.
I like her family, and the house is gorgeous. And I have way more interaction than if I were to be stuck in the dorms. I’m not saying I want any of these things she has. (I can barely walk on the hardwood floors without sliding.) I’m not going to say I wish I had a family like hers, because that would be a creepy case of envy. But, I wish my family would stop being so disruptive to my life.
Oh well, I guess I can comfort myself by sitting on one of the ten couches and I can occupy my time by writing for NaNoWriMo (only 34k to go).
I had a 6k Saturday (that sounds pretty good to say actually) so I know how you feel!
A 6K day, wow! Go you! *hands out cookies* I’ve come close to a 6K day, but you’ve inspired me to actually try for a 6K Monday now.
I think I’ll see if I can make a 6k day. Good luck to everyone else who’s going to try.