I’m actually happy when I think back on my days here. I get to play with Carmel, who has learned how to beg, shake, play dead, roll over, jump through hoops and over sawhorses, as well as all the traditional commands. With a tiny piece of bacon in my hand, boy does she get attentive fast! She immediately sits, and if I move, she follows and sits again right in front of me. Her play dead does resemble strikingly her “rub my tummy” pose, but still… Dad took her to the vet today and they said she’s svelte and beautiful as we all knew. Rabies-free too, happily. Washington state has only had 7 incidences of rabies in the whole state, 6 of them in bats and 1 in a cat. Why Carmel had to get a rabies shot, I’m not sure except that it’s state law.
We didn’t do too much today, and I like that. Finished my book, and I got Ian’s final and biggest Christmas present wrapped. I have a plan for Jess’s but since I won’t see her until after Christmas so I’ve got lots of time. Mom, Dad, Ian and I went to A Masquerade in Bellevue and got our costumes for the Murder Mystery we’re doing on January 2nd. It’s really an amazing place: some lady just loved collecting costumes, and did so in her apartment until it was bursting its seems with cool clothes. So she rented this warehouse space in the business district of Bellevue and filled the whole storage space with stuffed-full racks of costumes. She also sells some really, really cool masks which I would buy but won’t because what’s the point? Actually she’s expanded it into a huge business where they do tons of amazing costume/party-related stuff… In any case, she loves Murder Mysteries and all you have to do is go in and tell her your character and she’ll pick you right out a costume that works perfectly. Easy, but… part of what I liked about our old murder mysteries was the costumes WEREN’T perfect and authentic-looking: everybody searched Value Village and found the best they could, and that was part of the fun. Oh well, as long as Mom and Dad are willing to cover the costs.
We watched The Negotiator this afternoon after returning home despite our plans to drive to Ian’s house for a while. The traffic was perfectly horrendous, making the idea of driving through it just to visit for a bit a rather dismal proposition. I enjoyed the movie because, though I’d seen it before, I forgot who the top bad guy was so it seemed all new to me. Nothing like terrible long term memory! Speaking of memory, I remembered my WPI PIN number and Student Number and found out my grade in Topics in 19th/20th Cent Arch: I got an A! Hooray! I worked hard for that class; that means I have at least 2 A’s (we don’t get Clark grades until some time after January 5th) and I’m guessing a couple of B’s. Tolerable grades, for college, though I’m nowhere near the 4.0 student I was in high school 🙁
We played some Risk, but I got bored (and saw my doom quite imminent) and so left Colleen, Ian, and Dad to battle for world domination between the three of them. I really can’t tell who’s winning because from the sound of it they ALL have really bad luck. Why does it seem like the odds should be with you when you’re defending but the dice always fall onto 1’s and 2’s then? And why do they always do the same when you’re attacking? Risk is dependent on “the odds” but it seems like the odds are always against you. Hmmmmm.
Dad also let me borrow… indefinitely… a nice fountain pen that Physio gave him for being a good employee. I went to fill it and realized that two of the nicest ink bottles I have, and left at home so as to avoid leakage, are gone. No, I don’t mean lost: I mean completely vanished, because I’ve looked everywhere and they are gone. So I’ll just have to move up my trip to the U Bookstore and buy more of that blue ink I’ve been needing. *Sigh* At least we’re listening to real Christmas carols instead of Dad’s weird depressing stuff. Oddly, though I’m loving being home, I keep feeling a melancholy on occasion when I think of how short the days are before Ian leaves for London. On top of me spending so long away from Ian I also have to anticipate flying to see him in London. I can’t even say how little I want to fly there over break. The mere idea of doing that makes me want to curl up and hide, weeping, forever. I would rather be disembowled with a rusty spoon and then have my eyes burned out with fiery brands than fly to London. AND we’re paying horrendous volumes of money for me to fly there, for us to stay there, and for us to come home. I know I shouldn’t worry about the money for this, but I can’t help it…
I hate money. Ian says I’m way to worried about it, but I can’t not be afraid that we just plain won’t have enough money to both get through college and pay rent and eat and get home again… There are so many things I am worried about… I want to cry.
– KF –