brinshannara: (Default)
Well, that was an interesting night... I haven't seen CB since October, easily. I'm not kidding, either. We talk pretty much every day on the phone, but rarely actually see each other in person. I didn't even see her for her birthday, since I didn't want to aggravate my sinuses with a trip to the Polar Bear's Club, like I've done for the past two Januarys, on her birthday.

My night with CB. )
brinshannara: (what i write)
With seven hours to go until the end of 2005 for me, I thought I'd take a few minutes to write.

First of all, my DSL chose today to come back to me. Welcome home, beautiful. ;)

Second of all, I am in the most demand on NYE than I've ever been. Seriously. It's kind of freaking me out.

New Year's Eve Plans )

Thoughts on the last day of 2005. )

New Year's Resolutions )

And on that note, I have to finish getting ready for dinner, then run to the dep quickly for my emergency "OMG I HAVE A MIGRAINE HELP" caffeine withdrawal supplies and then ... go.

I had more to say, but I can't manage to articulate it all.

Have a very happy (and safe!) new year, everyone!
brinshannara: (free (syd))
Had a weird night. Went to the new Second Cup cafe that's three blocks away from me (ecstasy! :D), and sat there reading my own stuff and writing my own stuff for an hour and a half or so. Came home, went back out, rented a couple movies (OMG, Seth Green is the gayest thing EVER in Party Monster. Except for Macaulay Culkin.) and then went over to C's to retrieve one of the little rubber supports for my laptop that had fallen off while I was there last night. Thank GOODNESS it wasn't dropped at the Second Cup.

So I went there, I glued my support on and it seems to be sticking. While there, I helped her recycle some bar school crap -- took out staples, removed plastic spiral bindings, and stuff. Took us five minutes to do, total.

What? What ELSE am I going to do at 4:15am?

Anyways, I came home (and lived to tell the tale, obviously), wrote a mail, surfed a bit, and am now going to sleep.

Prayers for a short shift would be greatly appreciated. :)
brinshannara: (what i write)
Wrote this on Thursday night, in my journal. Thought I'd share.


The summers of my youth were very similar. Routine, even. But it was comforting. Part of the routine was sitting on the top balcony, outside my younger brother's room, until my eyes couldn't stay open anymore. I'd sit out there for hours, watching the quiet street, or reading or writing by the streetlight or a flashlight. I'd sit on the railing that divided our neighour's balcony from ours, back against the wall, my feet balanced on the railing in front of me.

Many nights, I wasn't alone. The boy next door, just about my age, would sit with me. We'd sit and talk, or, sometimes, we'd sit in silence. We'd sit and watch summer arrive and leave, watch the humidity lightning fling itself across the sky and smirk at passersby, caught in unexpected rainstorms, while we were kept safely dry.

There's something special about sitting quietly during the night in summer. Maybe it's the residual part of the concept that summer equals freedom, or maybe it's just the comforting sound of cricket chirps. I'm not certain what it is, but it's almost tangible.

Tonight, I am sitting in the main bedroom in my apartment. I'm no more than three kilometers from my parents' house, where I spent hundreds of summer nights listening to the rain or the crickets. I have no balcony of my own, unfortunately, but sitting on my windowsill, my feet up on the sill in front of me, right next to my window, covered only by a screen, I can close my eyes and just listen to the rain falling, and I'm instantly 14 years old again, quietly loving the night with every molecule of my being. So strange that it was half my lifetime ago that I did this.

Sometimes, I don't know if my 14-year-old-self would recognize me, these days, but I think I'll always revert back to being that girl on quiet summer nights.


Work. Consisted of four completes on the survey I was on tonight, all in French. I got listened to and got very good in my objectivity, which is awesome. We finished a half hour early, thank God, and I've been taking it easy since I got home. I'm exhausted and will be going to bed, soon.

But a conversation with CB led to this gem:

Me: "So it wasn't even good sex, in the sense that it's good even when it's not, like pizza is good, even when it's not?"
CB: "It was bad, as in 'I'm not eating the pizza.'"

This cracked us both up to the point of tears. I don't know why, but I thought I'd share.

And on that note, bonne nuit.


brinshannara: (Default)

March 2012

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