Monday, 20 June 2011 (I think)
Monday the Twentieth was supposed to be our Lost Day - leave on Sunday, arrive on Tuesday - but I'm pretty sure it's Monday morning in the District of Columbia here. So not a true Lost Day.
Not much has happened yet today, it being early in the morning of a Lost Day that could be excused for not existing at all. We landed at Dulles, ate Donuts from Dunkin (I think its - it's, crikey, I never mess up with 'its' and 'it's' - in the Dunkin Donuts Constitution that the chain cannot crose some meridian which passes through the vague middle of the country - how else to explain that it exists in such distant but easterly places as Chile and the Carribbean - that's Caribbean, one r, gosh - but not in California?), and found our gate for the next flight. That's it. We did take a crazy tall bus thing (which somehow was inescapably 'Star Wars'-esque) and a little train (in which we repeatedly said 'Stand clear of the closing doors, please,' over the official recorded voice because Quincey is much more charming - 'Quincey' is our nickname for some recorded voice in New York City, named after the character from 'Dracula' because of his cute Texas accent) to get from one part of the airport to another. (Good luck reading this paragraph through all the commentary, heheheh....)
Yesterday was only slightly more interesting. I woke up early (well, eight-o'clock-ish early) so as to cook breakfast (sausages, toast, and globs that were supposed to be fried eggs) for Dad as a nice thing to do on Father's Day. And... we truly finalised packing - deciding at the last minute to use duffel bags instead of our internal frame packs. When we weighed in the fully packed bags-for-the-checking, mine and Jefferson's were each twenty pounds, Dad's was thirty, and Mom had one thirty-pount bag and one twenty. Heheheh.
And... Mom took Sage down to her friend's house before any of the rest of us was awake...
And... we tried to get the snake to eat, but she wouldn't, so we had to release the mouse into the wild where it, being an albino and an idiot, is surely already dead and eaten.
And.... we were ready to go hours before the Roadrunner was scheduled to pick us up, so we napped and watched television and took a walk and generally wasted the time that needed wasting...
And... we went to the airport, and had to wait for somebody named Notorious to upgrade to first class before our seats could be assigned, and I ended up with a middle seat between two sleeping strangers... and I halfway slept and halfway watched the movies and television playing....
Oh and at the gate there were two children Doctor Stalking, and I laughed. It's an invasion. And, unfortunately, I've been very well indoctrinated. So I'm going to Doctor Stalk for a while because I can and have three hours to waste and nothing more to write. Grr. Rage against the conditioning.
Written Tuesday 19 July:
(Continued from 19 June)
- '...duffel bags instead of our internal frame packs...' The packs in question are actually frameless.
- If it's of any interest whatsoever (to future me, of course - I know it's of none to you): Mr Fusion used a navy-blue cylindrical duffel bag, Dad used his enormous black-and-red Swiss Army bag, Mom brought an enormous teal-green bag (thirty pounds) and a rectangular navy blue bag (twenty pounds), and I used some gray bag labelled 'Bristlecone,' which I think Dad dug up from his closet. I had my clothes tied up in plastic grocery bags (to keep them somewhat organised and, later, to keep the dirtiest ones from contaminating the cleaner ones) and my red Kelty sleeping bag squished into the purple bag's stuffsack so as to take up less space.
- Heheheh, I'd forgotten about Notorious. That was really his name.
20 June - Ha, that 'Grr. Rage against the conditioning.' was so half-hearted. No exclamation point or anything. Right after I wrote that I watched Eleven's first two episodes and, to my surprise, found myself actually liking Eleven. Speaking of Doctor Stalking, I haven't done it at all since then, and the obsession faded greatly, but will probably return as soon as I get too bored, now that I'm home and no longer surrounded by Far-More-Awesome-ness. (It did.)
Transcribed as faithfully as possible from my handwritten travel journal.
Italics indicate where I have changed or added to what I originally wrote.
Notes and expansions which I have written later, at the back of the journal, will be included along with their appropriate days, labelled with the dates on which they were written.
The handwritten journal uses a format in which the first line of every paragraph is indented and no line is skipped between paragraphs. As I cannot use indents here (or don't know how), I will skip a line between paragraphs, and use two a line of ........ when I skipped a line in the written journal.
Some entries are illustrated. I will do my best to either describe the illustrations or to include some equivalent image.
Yes, there are things to report from Today! Today I got my scores from the Advanced Placement Tests that I took in May... yay! two fives! And Today I got my first checking account set up... or really mostly just sat there and signed whatever the people who knew what they were doing told me to sign - I'm the most clueless person about all things banking; it's hard enough for me to accept (though I have accepted it, don't get me wrong) that each person's cash isn't just stashed away in each person's vault, Gringotts-style.
But mostly Today I am excited and nervous for tomorrow, when I'm going to see Marie, the girl with whom I am very smitten and may soon become infatuated.... I'm going to go to her house and meet her family (although I already know her dad, who was one of my teachers in high school), and then probably take her out to lunch.... And I do have hope, a little of it anyway, because she does seem to like me, but there are... obstacles... big obstacles... like me not being properly a boy, is the biggest. And her being a good innocent conservative Christian girl, although that is a big part of what I like about her. And me being awkward and shy and probably too scared to actually say anything that might keep me out of the Inescapable Just Friends Zone....
..... I guess the most important step toward becoming her boyfriend is letting her know I'm (kindasortamaybenotquite) a boy.....
See why I'm nervous.