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I don't know what it is, but for some reason, I'm feeling odd today. It's a weird feeling. Slightly grumpy, mildly paranoid, a bit sleepy, a tad restless. Very hungry and minutely nauseated. Completely unsettled.
I hate this. It's weird and spooky. I know it's partly due to my PMS (as evidenced by the fact that I could also eat a massive steak right now, or buffalo wings, or maybe more pizza, despite the fact that I had pizza last Saturday, Sunday and yesterday), but this weirdness is just...weird. Not right.
I was supposed to go to Bible study tonight, but right now I just don't feel like dealing with people. But I also don't like the thought of going home to an evening of nothing on TV and nothing to do. Yeah, I have a Gilmore Girls to watch, but that will take up all of 44 minutes of my time.
Argh. So I guess I'll go to Bible study, if for nothing less than to find out Michael's take on Travis' "incident" in Germany. Plus there'll be healthy veggies. To counteract the insane amounts of unhealthy food I'll be eating on Sunday. (Go Bucs!)
So I final story for the day, just to get![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
sullivanlane all worried in preparation for DilloCon.
I don't know about other states, but in the fabulous state of North Carolina, your 4th grade year is spent studying the state. We had to do that dreaded scrapbook. 15 pounds of misery. Copied reports, clippings, artwork, just a mess of not fun. A year was spent putting together something that would never be used again.
Side note: my mother actually kept the darn thing and made me take it recently. It's currently weighting down the back end of my car to keep me from sliding all over the place on icey roads. 4th grade torture *does* have it's uses.
There were regions of the state that were studied: the Coast, the Mountains and the Piedmont. Great thing about NC is that we have it all. Bad thing is that means more to write about.
There was one advantage though for those of us who went to my school. Out of all of the schools in the county, we were the lucky few who actually got to visit each of those regions on a trip. For the Piedmont, we went to a gold mine (only a day trip) and I think at some point we went to Raleigh (for the government portion). There was a beach trip that was most likely grand, but thanks to my mom was spent lying in a hotel room, getting sick at intervals because of not-so-brilliant ideas about Hardee's hamburgers. (Food poisoning is a bitch, ya'll.)
But the mountains trip was the best of all. There was the cabin built on the side of a hill where the water ran uphill (I kid you not - very cool) and where even though the floor was level, you had to lean at a 45 degree angle just to keep from falling over.
There was the Biltmore House, which is an awesome sight. Largest private home in America. Truly amazing. And very beautiful.
But the best part of all was the hotel rooms. I was put in a room with my best friend, her mom, Beth and Tina. Two double beds and five people. The math sucks on that one. What happened was that Shelly and her mom got one bed, Beth and I got the other, and Tina got the floor. Poor Tina. The hard, hard floor. Between the beds.
Due to her misfortune, Beth and I were forced to give up a pillow so that Tina would have at least a modicum of comfort. No problem. Beth and I put the pillow in the middle of the bed and each took an end. We had spent the night at each other's houses plenty of times, we were fourth graders. We were completely at ease.
Here comes the problem. I happen to be a very sound sleeper. But a very...active one as well. Seems that in the middle of the night, Beth managed to get hold of the entire pillow. This apparently made me unhappy. At which point I allegedly (because I've yet to see definitive proof) kicked Beth, sending her flying off of the bed and landing on top of Tina. There was much screaming, but I slept through it all.
I was informed of the incident the next morning, upon waking. To this day I remember nothing of the incident. But it was held up as the standard of how I slept by all of my friends I stayed overnight with. Apparently my nighttime...activity had been going on for years, and did go on for several more. (Although, in my defense, I was most likely defending myself in each of those instances, because I do remember that Shelly was a bed-hog as a child - knees in the back and all. I just manage to sleep more soundly than most.)
So there is my story. *g*
I hate this. It's weird and spooky. I know it's partly due to my PMS (as evidenced by the fact that I could also eat a massive steak right now, or buffalo wings, or maybe more pizza, despite the fact that I had pizza last Saturday, Sunday and yesterday), but this weirdness is just...weird. Not right.
I was supposed to go to Bible study tonight, but right now I just don't feel like dealing with people. But I also don't like the thought of going home to an evening of nothing on TV and nothing to do. Yeah, I have a Gilmore Girls to watch, but that will take up all of 44 minutes of my time.
Argh. So I guess I'll go to Bible study, if for nothing less than to find out Michael's take on Travis' "incident" in Germany. Plus there'll be healthy veggies. To counteract the insane amounts of unhealthy food I'll be eating on Sunday. (Go Bucs!)
So I final story for the day, just to get
sullivanlane all worried in preparation for DilloCon.I don't know about other states, but in the fabulous state of North Carolina, your 4th grade year is spent studying the state. We had to do that dreaded scrapbook. 15 pounds of misery. Copied reports, clippings, artwork, just a mess of not fun. A year was spent putting together something that would never be used again.
Side note: my mother actually kept the darn thing and made me take it recently. It's currently weighting down the back end of my car to keep me from sliding all over the place on icey roads. 4th grade torture *does* have it's uses.
There were regions of the state that were studied: the Coast, the Mountains and the Piedmont. Great thing about NC is that we have it all. Bad thing is that means more to write about.
There was one advantage though for those of us who went to my school. Out of all of the schools in the county, we were the lucky few who actually got to visit each of those regions on a trip. For the Piedmont, we went to a gold mine (only a day trip) and I think at some point we went to Raleigh (for the government portion). There was a beach trip that was most likely grand, but thanks to my mom was spent lying in a hotel room, getting sick at intervals because of not-so-brilliant ideas about Hardee's hamburgers. (Food poisoning is a bitch, ya'll.)
But the mountains trip was the best of all. There was the cabin built on the side of a hill where the water ran uphill (I kid you not - very cool) and where even though the floor was level, you had to lean at a 45 degree angle just to keep from falling over.
There was the Biltmore House, which is an awesome sight. Largest private home in America. Truly amazing. And very beautiful.
But the best part of all was the hotel rooms. I was put in a room with my best friend, her mom, Beth and Tina. Two double beds and five people. The math sucks on that one. What happened was that Shelly and her mom got one bed, Beth and I got the other, and Tina got the floor. Poor Tina. The hard, hard floor. Between the beds.
Due to her misfortune, Beth and I were forced to give up a pillow so that Tina would have at least a modicum of comfort. No problem. Beth and I put the pillow in the middle of the bed and each took an end. We had spent the night at each other's houses plenty of times, we were fourth graders. We were completely at ease.
Here comes the problem. I happen to be a very sound sleeper. But a very...active one as well. Seems that in the middle of the night, Beth managed to get hold of the entire pillow. This apparently made me unhappy. At which point I allegedly (because I've yet to see definitive proof) kicked Beth, sending her flying off of the bed and landing on top of Tina. There was much screaming, but I slept through it all.
I was informed of the incident the next morning, upon waking. To this day I remember nothing of the incident. But it was held up as the standard of how I slept by all of my friends I stayed overnight with. Apparently my nighttime...activity had been going on for years, and did go on for several more. (Although, in my defense, I was most likely defending myself in each of those instances, because I do remember that Shelly was a bed-hog as a child - knees in the back and all. I just manage to sleep more soundly than most.)
So there is my story. *g*