Two days' worth in one days' length
I woke up on Friday morning somewhat rested; the seven hours are poetic like that. The old women who run the place decided to waste my talent, devotion, and good looks by again sending me up to the N6TR place. I played the subservient child to the same crowd, minus one of the less visually appealing people there. I read the Southern book Blues Lessons, which had a simple, down-to-earth take on the Civil Rights era and singing. Drove home in my mom's minivan again; it went much more smoothly than it did on Wednesday, and I killed less people.

I came home, and my sister came home. I took my lunch and recalled the "date," though I detained myself a bit by writing the first of my "daily" stories and by finding out that Rebecca Wang has her schedule for some obscene reason. At two-thirty, I went out.

Originally I was going to trivialize this part, but then I figured that since this is a frickin' Livejournal that I can post whatever I want.

We met, and she was playing with a tennis ball. She suggested getting ice cream. I thought at Friendly's, but she said Prospect Street, so there we walked in almost total wordlessness. On Prospect we talked about books, which was a rather dry topic, and she told me that she had to go to the library before four-thirty. As we neared Route 27, Steff had a change of heart about walking all the way to South Acton. After some deliberation, I realized that she was waiting for me to come up with something. We turned back and nearly reached 111 when I hesitated. Steff didn't want to go back to school yet; she still had time to kill, she said, so we walked again toward the ice cream shop, not intending to go there. She muttered something about water guns and how I don't like getting wet and lost the "indefinite entertainment" that was her tennis ball. We discussed of all things, House. Though the both of us wanted to sit, there was no readily apparent seat, and when I mentioned seeing my counselor, she jumped the opportunity. We went back to school. She left. I went in. The counselor wasn't there.

That paragraph sucked, but it didn't suck nearly as much as the events illustrated.

I came home, and I discovered again why I can't stand my sister. It's brilliant, though. I have no regrets about having a sister; if I didn't have her, then I wouldn't have been able fully to appreciate her absence over the last week.

I watched a single episode of House, which was brilliant as it ought to be. Alex Kazberouk dropped off my 24 Season 1 DVDs as I practiced piano, which was solid. We all love Season 1.

I stayed up 'til three in the morn, enjoying the sight of Mario smashing Warcraft into a bloody pulp.

I woke at eleven. My father was out. The rain was already becoming apparent, so I did not mow the lawn. However, I went to the dump with my father in the afternoon for two trips to clean out some of the junk left over from construction. It was a thoroughly depressing trip: On my way there and back I heard the Moonlight Sonata movements I and II. Right at the end of II, though, we got home and had to pack up more crap into the minivan, and I didn't hear any of the superb third movement.

Welcome to the NHK!'s second episode finally has subs. There is a God, and His creation, NHK, is awesome. I then watched Full Metal Alchemist for God knows how many hours - fifteen episodes. There was a massive burst of awesome and a lot of less awesome parts. I'm a tad too tired - it's three - to detail it, but I will post a more legit review when I finish. Gotta get more blank DVDs.. Used the last on House.