September 12th, 2006

snape in lingerie

Mascot Changes

So our new class mascot is the Gold Diggers.

... *blink*

Let the double entendres begin.

EDIT 11:18am: I wrote this as a comment in agnesscott:

Look at it this way. 40% of the class voted for the mascot, meaning that 60% didn't. This means that while 40% of the students are going to celebrate over the new mascot, 60% are going to be unhappy because of it, and a subset of this set will go around causing drama because of it.

Lesson: It's not a big deal. We'll stil choose our majors (Wow, we have to do that this year. Erm...yikes?), graduate, and move on with our lives. What we choose as a mascot will be relevant over the next three years and at reunions.

If you want to be mad at anything, look at our options. The plural of supernova is supernovae, not supernovas. :P

The murder of a poor innocent creature

I killed a ladybug this morning.

That's right. I killed a ladybug. It was in my sink on its back, similar to the state of a turtle on its back. I didn't notice it until I was halfway through brushing my teeth, so I figured I'd rescue it and let it free after I finished brushing my teeth. Unfortunately that never happened.

When I finished brushing my teeth, I turned on the water to rinse my toothbrush. I turned the water on too high, and the water splashed on the ladybug. The poor thing couldn't resist the turns of the cascading water and fell into the vortex of falling water. When I realized what I had done, I turned the water off and grabbed a napkin to give it a proper burial before spitting out my toothpaste. That would be cruel beyond words.

I am such a bad person.
In other news, my experiment is working. That's all I'm saying on that. Now I have to extrapolate the results on known subjects. This is going to be the hard part. Maybe with this I can find a sense of belonging in a subset of the universe.
  • Current Music
    Harry and the Potters: Save Ginny Weasley from Dean Thomas
  • Tags

(no subject)

Well, I just got a call from Mum. At first I thought it was going to be one of those, "Where are you? Oh no what am I going to do without knowing where my kid is ALL THE TIME" calls like I get at least every other day, it seems. (I keep trying to cut the umbilical cord, but she keeps holding on. Sigh.) But I answered this time because I didn't have my phone on me the last 23423 times she called (in a week, probably). It was a good thing I did, too.

It turns out that Grandmother's sister Amy--my great-aunt, though I always called her Aunt--died today. I don't know exactly how old she was, but I know she was older than Grandmother is. She has had heart problems for quite awhile, but she was otherwise physically fine (all this is what Mum told me). She passed out today, and Uncle Burford went to check on her and found no pulse. She was dead.

When was the last time I saw Aunt Amy, anyway? I don't remember. I know it wasn't over the summer or during spring break. I want to say Thanksgiving or Christmas, but I doubt that. I know she was at Grandmother's 80th birthday surprise party last year, but that's the last time I saw her that stands out; she sat at the table that we had meant for Grandmother, but Grandmother ignored that and went to other tables to talk to everyone, so Aunt Amy and Uncle Burford got that table. I never saw her that often since she lived about 45 minutes away, and that was quite a drive at that age; as a result, I never knew her that well. She and Uncle Burford would send me a birthday card every year without fail. When I graduated from high school, they sent me a congratulations card. I could tell she sent it, too; the signature was always in her handwriting.

Mum isn't asking me to come up here since she knows I don't have time; she just wants me to call Grandmother in the next few days, as if she thinks I have no courtesy whatsoever. Of course I'd do that. Mum did raise me to be a fairly decent person. Then again, I'm the type of person to find a shred of humour in a funeral and to laugh at things that really shouldn't be funny (that's right, she raised a decent kid with a twisted sense of humour), so maybe she does have a point in reminding me.
This got me thinking, though. What do I want to happen to me when I die? How do I want to be remembered? See, she had family to remember her and to make funeral plans and all those things. I hope this will be a long way away (although we can't know these things), but if all goes as planned, I'll likely be living alone with nobody to find me if something happens. Normally living alone would make me quite happy, for then I wouldn't have to worry about housemates interfering with my strange habits. When I think of potential accidents, though, it makes the traditional lifestyle more appealing--you know, living with people, the whole deal. I think all of this comes down to one question.

How much am I willing to sacrifice for soundness of mind?
  • Current Music
    Harry and the Potters: Luna Lovegood is OK
  • Tags