In which I am sleep-deprived, loony, and miss everyone.

Today has been so incredibly strange. 

I didn't go to sleep on the night of August 14th. I stayed up all night packing and panicking, dragging trash bags of my stuff up and down the stairs, and trying to ignore my stomach butterflies (which, now that I reflect on it, were more like stomach elephants; they didn't flutter so much as stampede). 

So I was awake at 4:30 AM when the rest of the household woke up, zombies to a man, and got ready to begin their caffeine-fueled trek to SeaTac. 

The ride there passed in a total haze because, of course, I fell asleep. But once we actually got to the airport I was wide awake to be rapidly bundled through the baggage check-in and past a series of signs until it came time for, you know. Goodbyes.

Can I say something upfront? I SUCK AT GOODBYES.

Basically I just hugged everyone for as long as I could and tried not to cry. I can think of a couple of things that would make airport security more unpleasant, and one of them is going through with wet eyes and a red, blotchy face. I fumbled my way through security, totally disoriented. I've never done that alone before! Silly thing to obsess over, I know, but hey. I almost burst into tears in front of the TSA guys, which would have been a total nightmare-- they were all very nice, but I doubt they're used to emotional breakdowns right in front of them. They probably would've had to search me for being some kind of anomaly. 

Once I got through security everything got a little more bearable, although I couldn't stop thinking about other times I've trundled through SeaTac, luggage in hand-- the college trip I took with my dad, and the Phoenix trip just this year came to mind. I was pretty much dying for some company, family or friends. I wish I could've taken someone with me, but that's life. :/ 

The rest of the day is pretty much a litany of Plane Tasks: sleep, read, eat, sleep, read, sleep sleep sleep, read, sleep and then, hey presto! Washington, D.C., and my uncles' house, safe and sound (and I've got to say, being with relatives definitely helps). But I still can't shake the feeling that someone should be here with me. It's so great to be texting and talking with everyone, but I wish I could've brought a couple of you along. I realized how much I loved you guys, but I didn't realize how much I'd miss you. And I keep thinking my family's going to be in the next room or something, waiting for me to finish fiddling around on the computer so that we can all do the crossword and plan tomorrow's touristy activities.

Instead tomorrow is Move In Day. So surreal. 

I hope I don't come across as wildly depressed in this post-- I swear I'm not! I'm a little shaken up, I'm a lot sad, but I'm also really excited for this whole "college" thing. It's just that right now I wish "college" didn't mean quite so much being on my own. 

In which things have happened and I need a box of tissues.

So, guys, I've been thinking about this summer. I don't know how it's been for everyone else, but I think I can genuinely say I've just spent two of the most amazing months of my life. 

After all, I'll never walk into Barnes&Noble again without thinking about Geeklove...in your pants, or the desperate need Laurel and I had for hot fudge milkshakes. Next time I need to curse creatively, I'll be able to-- a comforting thought, really. 

I now know of the existence of the American Mustache Institute. 

(Enrich your life. Click the link.)

I've spent a good half an hour lying in bed at Camille's house convinced she was being robbed and that I was going to be killed-- but I had a fantastic time nonetheless. 

I've been to the Grand-- not once, not twice, but three times, and seen three very different movies. I've had popcorn with real butter, and escaped the (supposedly necessary) extra napkins.

I've listened to Camille's "so tired I'm high" musings on bathroom walls and antimacassars. I've even joined in (I contributed, among other things, a woman named Edna).

I've made my own envelopes. I've given away said envelopes. 

I've spent entire days watching vlogbrothers videos, swapping links to various bits of British comedy, and pining for the fjords. 

I've made some cookies that were really more like some sort of peanut brittle, and had Celine Dion played at me as a mechanism of torture. 

I've seen Harry Potter 6. I've marathoned Potter Puppet Pals. I've spent a good hour in my kitchen watching homemade salsa disappear, to wild acclaim. All this, in one spectacular five hour span. 

I've gone for a six a.m. walk in Sumner, even knowing full well that all my thoughts had already been thought-- and my reaction had already been had. I've been ordered to say A Certain Word. I, you know, haven't said it. 

For the first time in my life, I had not just places to be, but Places To Be. This doesn't happen to me. Never before in my eighteen years, have I so consistently had places to be after midnight. That in and of itself is a bit of an accomplishment really. I had people I wanted to see at all hours of the day, and I was lucky enough that those people wanted to see me. 

I've gotten to be friends with people I didn't used to know nearly well enough, and I've gotten even closer to people I didn't think I could get closer to. And I know eventually my life 3,000 miles from here will at least come close to being this lovely. But right now I can't imagine being up at 3:00 a.m. with anyone but, well, you guys. 

I'll miss you all tremendously-- more then you probably understand. I hope you have an amazing September, an amazing October, an amazing November. 

I know your Decembers will be amazing because, you know. I'll be here. :]

In which I have a lot to do, and make concerned faces, like this: :/.

So here's the thing: I should probably be gone right now.

I mean it! Just for the sake of my own mental health, I ought to be on a plane right this very minute. Because until then I will be freaking out about packing, and do I have everything I need?, and will I be able to move in on time, and will I catch my connecting flight, and what if I don't make any friends, and God I hope my schedule works out properly, and oh yeah I still need to buy books, and I'll have to use those books in my actual college classes, which, hi, difficult!, and oh Lord I have to ship a bunch of stuff (which I should have had done by, um, yesterday?).

And of course worrying about all of this still leaves me time to panic about how much I'm going to miss my friends, not to mention my family (I mostly fit that in when I'm supposed to be doing unimportant stuff, like sleeping). 

Anywho, the point is, as much as I'm trying to enjoy my last five days in my favorite state, with my favorite people, it isn't always easy. And I'd kind of like to be gone, just so that my stomach wouldn't be in such constant knots. :/

I'll miss you, lovely people! 

In which 106 degrees is just wrong, HuffPo brings the giggles, and Britain mocks the week.

Hello, internets. How've you been? :] 

How I've Been (Yet Another List):

o1. Too hot. I don't mean, like, "gosh, this temperature is a mite uncomfortable for those of us who were born and bred in the Pacific Northwest, hope it drops a few degrees," I mean, "gosh, it doesn't matter where you live, 106 degrees is just wrong." 

o2. Grateful for The Huffington Post.

I know it's an extremely liberal source, and I don't get my news from there, but I sure get my giggles. 

Case in point: http://www.huffingtonpost.com/2009/08/03/orly-taitz-melts-down-on_n_250441.html

An angry Fraggle! Oh HuffPo, I love you.

o3. Enamored of history books.

I love reading, quite a lot. And I love reading about history so much that sometimes it worries me. 

(Except not really, because is it possible to love reading about history too much? Correct answer: no. No other answers will be accepted. 

o4. In a frenzied state of packing.

When I'm not reading history books or HuffPo, I'm packing (also, packing, and also, packing!). Who knew I'd accumulated so much crap?

Actually, I did know I'd accumulated this much crap. I just didn't ever anticipate having to do something about it. Ah, well.

o5. Watching quite a lot of Mock the Week. 

Mock the Week is an irreverent, inappropriate, laugh-out-loud hilarious British TV show, which recaps the week's news in thoroughly manic and amusing ways. 

AND I ADORE IT.

That is all. 

That really is all. I've found myself having quite a lot to say about politics, lately, but I think I'll hold onto that until I've managed to put it together into something coherent, interesting and (hopefully) funny, instead of what it is now, which is a mess of incoherent, angry thoughts that no one would actually enjoy reading. Venting has its place, but I'd rather the face I presented to the general public was a little more tactful. ;]