such a long time since I heard from that girl of mine

Today felt like, dare I say it…(do I dare? and do I dare? Do I dare disturb the universe???) (I like the line about daring to eat a peach better, I have to say)

Today felt like spring!

And not Spring.
Because guys. We do not capitalize the names of seasons. It is not grammicly correct, as Bug would say.

Anyway, Mom and I went on an antiques odyssey today to a bunch of places we’ve never been to before. Usually we head into Lakewood for antique and vintage, because it’s riddled with cool little shops. But today we had to pick Dodge up from a retreat in far-flung Avon (I think someone should add “Stratford-Upon-” to that, because why not) and we decided to make a day of it. The weather was so warm that I wore only a sweater, and it was sunny and wonderful and meanwhile I guzzled hot tea from a paper cup anyway because I have a bad cold. So basically I also touched a lot of cool stuff with my germy fingers. Whatever.

First we went into this neat old house that was packed the brim, but still bright and clean. All the way from the enclosed porch to the attic to the basement, there was stuff to hunt through. I was dazzled by the sight of the house’s actual kitchen overflowing with vintage kitchen stuff and completely nonsensical antique cooking implements. I mean, you pick some stuff up and you wonder, Is this a utensil or a tractor component? It was at this house that I bought a big glass light fixture thing that is yellow and brass and shaped like a flower. And it’s epic. (Because I said the word epic!) We also went through a huge barn-turned-antique place where Mom became keenly interested in shutters; another house that was connected sort of in a way; and one more antique store that creeped us out because it was basically junk thrown everywhere in cobwebby corners and dim lighting and different music in every room and a slanted floor like a funhouse of DOOM. (*gasps for breath*)

Then we came home and collapsed for a bit, and I made newspaper pots for my seedlings, which I will plant tomorrow. (If I have soil. I kind of forgot to check… I’m a little disorganized this year for some reason.)

Oh! Oh! And! I forgot! This past week was the week I took my GED test! The actual test-taking was fine and surprisingly not difficult, which has the reverse effect on me than you might expect– I’m actually more apprehensive of what my scores will be since I found it so easy. (Everything has to be more complicated, said my overthinking brain.) And the part where we all sat around in the waiting area during the breaks in between sections of the test? Yeah, that was an experience. The guy I was sitting next to called his mom and asked her to bring him food…
Him: “I need food… No, I’m not trying to yell, I just need FOOD. … …Ew, no. Baloney is inhumanly disgusting. No. No…. What?… I said, baloney is disgusting. I’ll– I will gnaw the flesh off my own leg before I eat baloney.”

My thoughts: Please can break time be over.

So, once I am officially marked “Passed” for the test, I will be graduated! Now I can further my education in the school of LIFE. As if I haven’t already been doing that. As if I actually sat down and did actual schoolwork at all this year… Cough. It was self-guided study, okay?
Basically I’m unschooled, OKAY!?!?!

Also, people keep asking me what my “plan” is now. It’s not so bad when people I actually know ask me this, but when it comes to acquaintances and/or strangers, it gets kind of awkward because I don’t have “a plan”. (“If we sticks to the plan, the plan will work”, as my dad always says.) Well, actually, I do, but since I’m already implementing it (finish my novel and get moving on that writing career while working at the library and possibly moving up in rank there), it sounds lame. Life is so unfair.

Maybe I should start steering the conversation in a different direction. Like this:
“Wellll, technically, it’s not so much a plan as a goal…”
“Oh? So what is it? College? Career?”
“Heaven. You know. The usual. The great thing is, you can get a full ride.”

I mean, who can argue with that, right?

Yours till the ink smudges,

PS: *News Flash* (Or, as Francis would say, “News for you FLASH!!”)… Radar is real. In case you were wondering if he was actually just a really convincing hologram or something.
PPS: Also, while Radar was here, I became suddenly aware of the fact that so very many of my conversations with the DHFs are, like this blog post, laced with oodles of quotes from not only movies and culture, but also from each other. (“She’s leav-ing to-mor-row!” etc). We have a quote-addiction problem.
PPPS: Like how Eliza can quote the entire “Potato-Head Packing Scene” from Toy Story 2. Just saying. It’s that bad.


7 thoughts on “such a long time since I heard from that girl of mine

  1. I felt spring too! It was AWESOME! I even worked out in the garden.
    Your day sounded fun! And I have a feeling that I went into the antique store with the kitchen before.
    I’m glad you posted. I always enjoy reading your blogs. :)

  2. No, Radar is decidedly NOT a hologram, as I’m sure you realized when he fell down the stairs. Repeatedly. I enjoyed meeting you all!!
    But hey–I didn’t know you were writing a novel!! Welcome to the club!! ;) I’m attempting to write a novel…well, attempting to write several at the same time (I’ve been working on my longest for 5 years now), because I’m ADHLAS (Attention Deficit–Hey Look, A Squirrel) and can’t for the life of me focus on one thing at a time, like the chicken pot pie that I threw in the oven tonight–I have halfway through baking it when I forgot I put it in there and unwrapped a few mini-pizzas to bake as well, so I had a big meal and where was I?? There was a point to that, I think…
    Oh. Right. Novel. CAN I PLEASE READS IT???? Yours, I mean. Not mine. I know what mine is. I think. I guess if I write it after 11pm, it would be just as much of a surprise to me as it would be to everyone else…
    YAY SPRING!!!!!!!!!!!
    P.S. Your blog rocks. Just sayin’.
    P.P.S. Quotes are awesome. :)

    1. YES YOU CAN READS IT!!! Well, what there is of it so far to be read… You can send me something of yours too, if you want. Bug and Eliza and I call it “The Quill Fellowship” when we send each other our works in progress.
      Speaking of which… Bug! Yes, you! Send me Radar’s email!

    1. Oh pshaw! *blushes* You make it sound so distinguished, like I sit in an attic late at night smoking a long pipe and stroking the keys of a huge, black typewriter under the yellow light of a single bulb.
      Actually. That would be cool. ;)

      1. I’ve never smoked a pipe while writing, but I have set stuff on fire…long story, and no comment. Bug, you could text me Pen’s email address…you have my number, right? (If not, I think your mom does.)
        Oh, heyy, I do have a typewriter, though!! :)
        Okay, that was random.

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