![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
Classes, not so bad. Not for me, anyway. Stephan's having an existential crisis about the inquiry into the nature of man.
Seth is coming this weekend.
Seth is coming this weekend.
Nabil seems to pick up Godfatherhoods like nobody's business. First Starbucks, now this. After my last class this afternoon he took me to the Village and we ate at Buffalo Wild Wings, and then I felt like ice cream (despite the unnatural cold), so I expressed a desire to go across the street to TCBY. "Nah," he said slyly, "Let's go to Cold Stone." I didn't remember where it was, so he drove us over there, and lo, he was good friends with the manager, and I was given a large serving of raspbery sorbet for free. We ended up talking to the guy (intermittently interrupted by actual customers) for a couple hours, before I discovered he knew Jenny. Brian W-something, I think. It was highly entertaining. And I am so full of ice cream samples it's not funny.
Nabil is nearly obsessed with the song. He will probably want to meet you this weekend, Seth.
I don't think I'm arranging my voice lesson for this afternoon; either I've lost padding, or I've lost bone solidity, because I got Joy's bike and it's wonderful and fancy and it goes much faster than walking, but after only two days the edges of my pelvis are sore enough to flinch when merely getting on. It's like saddle galls, but with a bike.
I hope there's no studio tomorrow, so I can go to the meeting. Bike or no bike. Someone will drive me.
Oh, that's what I wanted to do. Bryce will explain all of the jargon my financial advisor was spouting at me and mama the other day when we finally went to go see him. Then things will be better.
Nabil is nearly obsessed with the song. He will probably want to meet you this weekend, Seth.
I don't think I'm arranging my voice lesson for this afternoon; either I've lost padding, or I've lost bone solidity, because I got Joy's bike and it's wonderful and fancy and it goes much faster than walking, but after only two days the edges of my pelvis are sore enough to flinch when merely getting on. It's like saddle galls, but with a bike.
I hope there's no studio tomorrow, so I can go to the meeting. Bike or no bike. Someone will drive me.
Oh, that's what I wanted to do. Bryce will explain all of the jargon my financial advisor was spouting at me and mama the other day when we finally went to go see him. Then things will be better.
Hurrah, for Anne McCaffrey has lifted the fanfic/art ban! I celebrate. Also, my time with the paper tablecloths at whatever that restaurant was not wasted. I inverted it, too.
( I win. I just do. )
( I win. I just do. )
.