The last week or so has been an insanely busy time for me, in which I have actually been socializing with real live people. I know, I’m surprised by myself too.
Today I woke up grudgingly (nothing like sharing a bed with a diagonal sleeper to disturb the night.) and realized that the rain I was caught in yesterday was so bad that everything I had hung up from the night before was still wet.
(And by bad I mean mind blowing, rain interfering with my contact lenses and rendering me partially blind, wearing five layers and having them all soaked through, terrible, mini-monsoon bad. Yet it was actually a great time. A really damp, great time.)
After throwing my clothes in the dryer (green methods of laundry be-damned; I don’t want my favorite pair of jeans to mildew.) I dragged myself out to the kitchen where I got to watch the interesting procedure that is my Dad attempting to poach eggs in a pot. For the record, the right way is to carefully ladle the raw eggs into gently simmering water, whereas the wrong way is to crack them straight into boiling water. I leave it to your imagination how the eggs turned out.
After a certain amount of gently easing myself into the day (Recommended: long hot showers, comfy jeans, journalling to Grizzly Bear playing in the back ground. Not recommended: small children wondering if they are going to turn into zombies, bad radio music, noise in general.) I actually left the house for the grand adventure that is the walk to uptown.
The last choir event of the year (the graduation ceremony) was today, but since I left my house fairly early, I had about twenty minutes to kill by meandering anti-socially around the outskirts of uptown and taking pictures of random things.
The weather was far from spectacular, which meant that after my nearly hour long meandering I came to the sudden realization that I looked a bit on the wet side to be wearing the formal (albeit slightly hideous and 100% polyester) red choir gown and pearls that make up the female uniform for choir. On that note, I have absolutely no sorrow about not having to wear that dress until next fall. As much as I love choir, those things are sweltering, funky tan line inducing instruments of torture that look fancy.
After the choir had done their part Julianne and I adventured a bit around uptown, walking past various groups of also adventuring choir people who didn’t see us (giving us perfect opportunities to practice our T-Rex stalking skills. Exactly what it sounds like; you stalk people while acting like a T-Rex.), found an invitation to insert corks into a board, eventually ending our journey at Tims, the always open land of cheap food.
When we reached the end of our respective sugar filled drinks we parted ways, and I meandered back home listening to music (to anyone that may have seen me on the overpass that leads back to my house: I’m not actually insane, I was just singing along to Thom Yorke mumbling about weird fish.) and *instagramming the random things that caught my interest.
*Yes, instagramming. Because nothing expresses individual artistic talent quite like taking pixelated pictures and slapping a filter and blur effect on them. If you are equally shameless feel free to look me up by the username “MissOddling”.