15 August 2001 // Dubya and nostalgia... odd combination.
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Do you know how hard it is not to start whistling "Hail to the Chief" when the President drives by? Yeppers, Dubya is apparently staying at the Sheraton Old Town - right down the street from where I work. The lot of us went outside to watch (and in my case, make faces) as the motorcade drove by. Then I went for ice cream for everyone. :) Hehheh. I should have stayed inside, out of sight of the black helicopters... something about an incident involving a flamethrower and a big stompin' red guymelef. ^_^; It's probably just as well I didn't tell David he was going to be here. I didn't know myself until Leo told me when I came in to work - the one morning I don't listen to the radio, and something like this happens. Feh. Now I'm wondering how the frak I'm going to get out of the parking lot and get home - with traffic closed off around the hotel, and construction on the other street I could use as an escape route, it's a genuine mess. *sigh* Times are tough...
I've been feeling rather nostalgic the past few days. For one, I found the box all my old yearbooks were in... and spent probably 3 hours monday night looking through all of them and marveling at how much and how little people changed from seventh grade through my junior year of HS. I don't have a senior yearbook, dammit. It's a bit of a sore point, and I'm still mildly pissed off at Mr. Leupold and Deming Home Center for it not getting to me after my parents left DHC. I do have a "senior memory book" that I got from the ppl who were selling class rings, and that has everyone's signature and silly little name cards and stuff, but it's not the same. I try and shrug it off by saying that I didn't really like senior year anyway, because of all the drama that happened in my group of friends, stuff I'm still trying to sort out and forgive years later. But in terms of the things that would actually be in the yearbook - academic decathlon, drama, chorus, all the school activites I was involved with - it was a really good year. I should have taken more pictures, should have written more stories down, shoulda had an online diary that I could rant to, so I'd be able to remember what really happened, instead of the indistinct recollections I have now. I can remember that I went to All-State Choir, and Academic Decathlon state competition, and Caltech's pre-frosh weekend instead of prom, and so on, but I'll be damned if I can remember specific events in any detail. Stupid me and my aversion to writing in high school.
I guess that's why I'm doing this now... so I can remember what I think about things, so I can remember my own stories and be able to tell them years later, if only to myself.
Oh, I so want to go home and work on fanfic now... but I reeeeally need to get the living room mostly box-free and organized for the group to come over on Friday night. Darn my "easily distracted" flaw...
I've spent the past day and a half during idle times at work reading through shoiryu's diary and web site. So much of what she writes hits very close to home, echoing many of my own experiences in feeling if not in detail. It makes me wonder what my writings would have been like if I'd had the web and diaryland when I was in high school, what rants I would have written. Her fanfics are excellent, as is her original work. Her art just amazes me. She seems to be as much a Trigun fan as I am an Esca fan - and where I have Dilandau, she has Knives. ^_^ Thank you, Shoiryu, for wanting to help people be happy. You've definitely been a bright spot in my life the last couple of days. *grin*
See, surfing through one's diaryrings is a very good thing. So is clicking on diaryland banners. I need to put one together...
Whee! time to go home! Ja ne! ^_^
recent alterations //
21 November 2002 // I'm not dead yet!
03 October 2002 // Snarling bitch to genki fangirl in 0.8 seconds flat! [i]
27 September 2002 // He's got butterfly wings, not feathery angel wings. Geez, people!
25 September 2002 // The Great Oekaki Contest Begins! [ai]
14 September 2002 // The obsessiveness continues...
