Homeward Bound
I don't know how many of my readers are users of the Macintosh persuasion (actually, I have a fairly good idea what the number is, give or take two complete strangers who frequent the blog), but there's this nifty little thing called "Dashboard". My freshman year at Wash U was a tumultuous time for me, and I spent many weeks counting down the days, hours, minutes and seconds until I got to leave. It was something of a chore to do all this counting myself, and I kept my eyes peeled for a convenient countdown application which might do the heavy arithmatic for me. Finally, now that I'm well adjusted and happy here, I've found one.
Despite my adjustment, I still very much look forward to going home, for a few reasons : a) I love my family. b) I love my friends. c) I love not having work to do. d) I love my city. Lastly, a very emphatic e) my parents have finally bought a new car for my mother.
She's been steering the same rig around for the better part of a decade, and they finally decided that, now that my sister and I are out of the house, they don't need the same vehicular capacity as they once did. So my father--who loves to buy very expensive things--went out and got her what she wanted; a hybrid sedan. He had been pushing her towards one of the Mazdas with the rotary engine, but she saw through his attempt at vicarious comsumption.
What does this mean for me? It means I get a car to bring back at the end of the break. Sure, it's nearly a decade old. Sure, it's a light blue minivan. And sure, it's creeping up on 200000 miles. But the value of having a car is worth all those hardships. My main mode of transportation, at the moment, is a 1986 model bipedal hominid and, though it has significantly less than 200000 miles on it, I'd be hard pressed to travel far at any significant speed.
So, tomorrow (today, rather), after Russian, then after Fiction Writing (in which I present an outside short story, as well as have my own story workshopped), and then after all the rats and pigeons are tested and fed, I am out like sky camo. Gone with the wind. Shot in a metal tube across the right leg of our nation to the place I have always called home.
I'm surprised to say that I don't know what Alfonzo is doing for break. I know he hates his family and loves solitude, so he's apt to stay here. But he hasn't been talking much since the return of suite 3100's prodigal sons; just kinda sulking and muttering and looking a few shades darker than usual.
Vlad will be staying, for sure, but he'll probably find something very interesting to occupy himself with. That's up to him, of course.
Ahh, well, the bed is calling. Goodnight, all.
-Alan
Despite my adjustment, I still very much look forward to going home, for a few reasons : a) I love my family. b) I love my friends. c) I love not having work to do. d) I love my city. Lastly, a very emphatic e) my parents have finally bought a new car for my mother.
She's been steering the same rig around for the better part of a decade, and they finally decided that, now that my sister and I are out of the house, they don't need the same vehicular capacity as they once did. So my father--who loves to buy very expensive things--went out and got her what she wanted; a hybrid sedan. He had been pushing her towards one of the Mazdas with the rotary engine, but she saw through his attempt at vicarious comsumption.
What does this mean for me? It means I get a car to bring back at the end of the break. Sure, it's nearly a decade old. Sure, it's a light blue minivan. And sure, it's creeping up on 200000 miles. But the value of having a car is worth all those hardships. My main mode of transportation, at the moment, is a 1986 model bipedal hominid and, though it has significantly less than 200000 miles on it, I'd be hard pressed to travel far at any significant speed.
So, tomorrow (today, rather), after Russian, then after Fiction Writing (in which I present an outside short story, as well as have my own story workshopped), and then after all the rats and pigeons are tested and fed, I am out like sky camo. Gone with the wind. Shot in a metal tube across the right leg of our nation to the place I have always called home.
I'm surprised to say that I don't know what Alfonzo is doing for break. I know he hates his family and loves solitude, so he's apt to stay here. But he hasn't been talking much since the return of suite 3100's prodigal sons; just kinda sulking and muttering and looking a few shades darker than usual.
Vlad will be staying, for sure, but he'll probably find something very interesting to occupy himself with. That's up to him, of course.
Ahh, well, the bed is calling. Goodnight, all.
-Alan
posted by Alan Orlanski at 1:30 AM
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