succumbing to peer pressure

Friday, July 18, 2003

So I haven't been posting much since I'm at home, and the really lovely thing about being home is doing nothing. Or as close to nothing as possible. I mean, I have very little problem filling the days, and still manage to stay up until 2 am each night, but none of it would be very interesting to anyone. A little work, a little packing, a little laundry, lots of tv and reading and time with the parents. I've begun composing a few posts in my head about the latest Bush thing (he LIED to us! where's the public outrage?!), but frankly none of them are coherent or developed enough to do the topic justice. Plus, I need to do some fact-finding to really nail some stuff down and after making a dozen phone calls researching apartments in Atlanta I just lack the motivation. Yeah yeah, apathy will be the death of democracy.

Speaking of Atlanta, for those who care, Mom and I are driving down there a week from tomorrow to apartment hunt. Then back here for a couple of weeks, then I move down there sometime around the middle of August (depending on leases and whatnot). And, it turns out I have yet another random aquaintance in Atlanta - Vandy Vanderford (anyone who didn't go to high school with me will be certain this is a fake name, I assure you, it is not) is working on his PhD at Emory too. Random.

And with that, it's time for me to go read for a few hours. I've reached that particularly delicious part of a book, just over half-way through, where you just want to stay up all night devouring it...then again, two food images in one sentence...maybe I'm just hungry...

Monday, July 14, 2003

Yay for Pirates!

Your pirate name is:

Iron Morgan Rackham

A pirate's life isn't easy; it takes a tough person. That's okay with you, though, since you are that person. You have the good fortune of having a good name, since Rackham (pronounced RACKem, not rack-ham) is one of the coolest sounding surnames for a pirate. Arr!

I knew I was going to miss Mark and Carrie, I was “prepared” (much as anyone can be) that moving away from them would make me sad, that I would compare pretty much every living situation afterwards to the one we had, etc. Yet the overwhelming desire to be in that apartment again can spring up so suddenly and unexpectedly…I was scrolling through some e-mails, looking for an attachment I need for work, when I got to the section of messages from Carrie. Just skimming the subject lines, “25,000 what?” “x2,” and “Friday night?” reminded me how unfairly easy it used to be to see them. Just a little stroll to the other side of the apartment. A glance into the kitchen. Merely having to wait until the end of the day for one of them to come home. Instead of not knowing when I’ll have the chance to see them again. God I miss you guys.