Elizabeth Scripturient (the delinquent, ecumenical (hermionesviolin) wrote,
Elizabeth Scripturient (the delinquent, ecumenical
hermionesviolin

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"Random Man strikes again."

scattered musings from the past few days...


I hear McDonald's french fries contain beef extract. So much for my at least being able to have french fries when i go to McDonald's.

I learned of the 18th Annual Boston Gay & Lesbian Film/Video Festival on Sunday -- the last day of the festival. Grrr. There's always next year, though, right?

I read She Who Remembers by Linda Lay Shuler, and it felt so much like Jean M. Auel's Clan of the Cave Bear only not nearly as good. I wonder if it's possible to read too much, to have everything feel derivative of everything else. The end of Sharon Green's The Blending series feels so much like the end of Isaac Asimov's Foundation series.

I miss being self-sufficient in many ways. I miss the meal plan, not having to take care of getting food myself, but i also miss doing my own laundry, being in charge of when my stuff gets washed. I liked not having dirty dishes lying around, not having anyone else responsible for what went on in my life, in my space. I think when i get out of college i am moving into an apartment no matter what. Yeah, it'll suck to have to buy all my own food, do all my own cooking, and oh the bill-paying, but even after only a year of being "on my own" it is so weird and in many ways frustrating to be back "at home."

Jury duty. I had been 18 maybe 6 months when i got called to do jury duty. Got it postponed because i was away at school, so at 8am today i was at Dedham Courthouse. Ultimately all the jurors got dismissed. I decided i wanted to walk home, since it's just straight on Washington Street. I thought it was only about 11:30 when we got dismissed, but it was about 1:30 when i got home and MapQuest says it's only about 6 miles. It certainly didn't feel like i'd been walking for 2 hours anyway.

I think i need to make a better Tara icon. And i think i would like a Giles one as well.


I'm coming home with a stone, strapped onto my back.
I'm coming home with a burning hope turning all my blues to black.
I'm looking for a sacred hand to carve into my stone.
A ghost of comfort, angel's breath - to keep this life inside my chest.
This world falls on me with hopes of immortality.
Tags: being an adult, books, film festivals: mfa: glbt, food: veg
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