"In the the empty corners of the evening,
In the vacant beauty of the wind."I feel the insane need to update, despite the fact the last one was eaten, and besides I did promise
cucharita I would spam her friends page. In response, she put very cold hands on my neck and attempted to strangle me, which is worse than hugs. Ugh.
Talking of teh Enid, she really wants to do this giving-up-the-internet thing. But by lunchtime today, she was fraying at the edges. She stole an empty rouch book from outside the office, and wrote "www.offlinejournal.bk/user/cucharita" on it. "Bk" means book, apparently, and it's "user" because there's only one. She has already begun writing in it, and has made the back inside cover a userinfo page. To please her, I wrote "loneraven" on the friends-of section, as did Becca - "chanandlerbong."
_detroit wants to make a notebook for all of us - me, her, Becca and Enid - to write notes to each in other, like we did when we were younger, but this idea would never work online, only offline. I mean,
mtgs isn't really the most talked about community on LJ, ne? I don't think I'm even a member, though in theory I ought to be as I am an Oppressed Little Girlie.
In other news... the sun's out, the birds are singing...
Well, the sun is part way out, and one bird is singing. Over the last few days, I've noticed it becoming warmer. It's now no longer uncomfortable to be outside, and I have come to the decision not to wear any socks. I hate wearing washed socks, so I wear them from when they're new to when they're unwearable grey fluff, and
snowdrop24 thinks this is the most revolting thing ever, or some such superlative. She might be pleased to hear I've decided it's warm enough to dispense with socks altogether, and I hope to stay barefoot until October.
I actually have to get some work done today. History and Chemistry, and I can't face the history. One thing I like about science - there's never any harm in guessing. You can have no clue, and get the answer right because your family made you think scientifically from the age of two ("You want a biscuit? It's in the red box. Do you think biscuits always come in red boxes? Only when they're digestives? Of course!"). But with the history, you have to know what you're talking about. And I don't. I really don't.
Ah, well, I don't mind. I'm in a good mood.