"Woke up afraid of my own shadow. Like, genuinely afraid."

Let’s not think about the piles of summer schoolwork I have two weeks to finish, the college applications I have to start filling out, and the grilled cheese sandwich that won’t cook fast enough. Am I frazzled? Not slightly. In fact, I’m more than laid back about the situation. My mindset has been ‘I’ll get to it later’ all summer, and soon there won’t be a later to use. Am I screwed? Not slightly. I have two weeks to finish schoolwork I’ve already started; I’ll be fine (if I stop cut this awful habit of procrastination).

I can see you, fly. You aren’t getting a piece of my grilled cheese.

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Friday was not the most enjoyable day of the week, but it wasn’t the worst. I was ‘stood up’ — an accident or a coincidence of bad luck (on Friday the Thirteenth). Being the recluse that I am (I rarely leave the house, you see), it’s no surprise I had a panic attack after I exited the train. It’s Center City on a Friday afternoon, people are bound to be busy-bodies.

I spent two hours in Barnes & Noble (calming down, plus reading The Andromeda Strain) before actually purchasing the book (four chapters in), and spent another two hours doing an array of things. I perused Chestnut and Walnut as though I was seeing them for the first time all over again, spotted a Starbucks and bought a smoothie, photographed the people (and scenery) in Rittenhouse Square, bought a vintage bag (for $8.50) at Buffalo Exchange, had lunch at McDonald’s, and went home.

There was a fat, pure-white pigeon on the neighbor’s roof. I kid you not.

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Sunday was my cousin’s birthday; she turned three. The house was a bottle of chaos. People aren’t my forté (re: recluse), really, and the house was crowded until eight (not to mention loud). I barely had a chance to sit down at the computer; I barely had a chance to think. I was irritable by the afternoon. That’s not a pretty sight — trust me.

On the upside, I saved a baby bird. He must have lost his way while learning to fly, and the avenue is no place for birds who can’t fly. My mom and I were on our way to Wawa (mmm, soda), but I wouldn’t leave him. I scooped him up (I had to chase him around a few times, and be sure not to scare him into the street) and brought him home, gave his little head a few good scratches, and set him in the box my parakeet came home in. We carried him to the park (my friend, bird lover and owner of three parakeets, a parrot, and a pigeon, advised to do so), and I set him free into the wild. He was the cutest bird I’ve ever seen; I miss him.

Being a hero feels good.

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I’ve decided to base my entry for ‘Vive Histoire!’ in the French Revolution era. We’ll see how that goes. I’m lagging on the comment contest, but I don’t know what to read! I used to be an avid Fan Fiction supporter, but Original Fiction seems to suit my tastes better. Original slash? Even better! I can’t read while I’m writing, though, but y’all could leave some suggestions.

Happy Monday, Mibbians!

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Music recommendation of the week: The Mountain Goats.
- "If You See Light"
- "Lovecraft in Brooklyn"
- "No Children"
- "Dance Music"
- "Maybe Sprout Wings"
- "Woke Up New"
- "So Desperate"
- "Marduk T-Shirt Men's Room Incident"
- "Broom People"
- "This Year"
- "Dinu Lipatti's Bones"
- "Hast Thou Considered the Tetrapod"
- "Love Love Love"
- "Pale Green Things"
August 16th, 2010 at 05:47pm