So … I’m back, as Samwise Gamgee so eloquently put it. I don’t know for how long – at least two weeks – as most of the potential jobs I’m looking at are not in Dallas. The ride up was uneventful, except for the trifling detail that my dad forgot to bring the cartop carrier, so it was an exercise in packing efficiency to get the contents of my apartment stuffed into our ’99 Ford Escort. However, we got it done, and there was room to see out the back window. More or less. Ish.
Congratulations to all you seniors (both university and high school)! *skips words about next steps and significant milestones that you must be sick of hearing about* May God guide and protect you.
I say this partly because I went to my sister’s graduation yesterday morning. Since there were only six homeschooled grads this year in our little [group, circle, whatever], we didn’t have to listen to ‘Pomp and Circumstance’ twenty times, which in my opinion is a terribly good thing. There were the slideshows, of course, starting with the inevitable baby pictures. Mum had volunteered me to help serve punch at the reception; she was just supposed to chill with the other parents. When other mothers get nervous – well, I don’t know exactly what they do, talk maybe, but mine starts micromanaging. Which I find rather amusing.
“Arin, it’s ten o’clock. Let’s go make the punch.”
Wait a minute – I thought that was my job – where did this ‘us’ start happening? “Relax, Mum. It’s nine fifty-five.”
A minute later: “Arin, we should start the punch… What if you spoil it?”
What if I spoil it? What happened to ‘we’? “Mum … it’s punch. It won’t go bad, I promise. It’s frozen, for Pete’s sake.”
So, yeah. I served punch and made sure Tyler got his entirely unnecessary sugar fix by giving him the densest part. He owes me for that. Commenting that “Adults need coffee to keep them going – kids just need sugar” doesn’t quite cut it; I don’t drink coffee, and by that definition don’t qualify as an adult.
Speaking of owing people, I owe Erica three dollars. A debt of honor, one might say. We were debating the probablility of one of the graduate’s moms crying (not ours) and I ended up betting her that she would. She didn’t, although by her own admission she almost did. It just wasn’t a tear-jerker graduation. I think if we had more slideshows with parental narration, it would have done the trick.
I went biking this morning on the dam, slightly after sunrise. Sixteen miles in about fifty minutes. I didn’t realize that the dam road was actually inclined slightly both ways: two miles up, two miles down. There were also two pelicans and a hawk that were completely uninterested in my business. I had the dam pretty much to myself – other bikers and runners started arriving as I was leaving. I need to bring a camera sometime.
So… between that and church and catching up with people – and reading and falling asleep while reading – and I want to go to the library soon – and I need to clean “my” room (not actually mine anymore) – and I made an effort to “clean” just before I started typing this but it was actually just redistributing the mess – and trying to pin down a job – and deciding whether or not to go to Israel – and yeah, my life is fun. I also think that Dr. Moskow has had a slightly negative influence on my narration abilities. I have used the word “So….” more often than necessary, and I wish I had counted all the times she said it. However, had I done that, I don’t think I would have learned anything in lecture.
Random quote of the day: “Oh, I thought that was smoke coming off my foot.” – Ryan, my brother, on learning that his wart had actually been cauterized instead of being frozen, as the nurse had assured him.