I detach myself from people when they are far away. Maybe to avoid missing them. Maybe because I'm already distracted by the billiondy things already in front of my face. Maybe because I'm a
heartless tin man that rubber trees like to throw apples at.
The answer might be D) All of the above. Nevertheless,
Emilie drove down from Princeton today to the lovely Conner house to say hello. As soon as she arrived with her awesome hipster-esque glasses and her homemade crocheted scarf and her super-cool striped "frumpy shirt," it was back to old times. Well, first it was "You're a hipster!" and then it was back to old times.
Bee-tee-dubs,
Emilie called her shirt frumpy. If that's true, every shirt I wear is frumpy. I think she thinks loose means frumpy. I'm a frump.
Essentially, Emilie, Mike, and I sat on the couch and talked for HOURS. I don't have a watch, so I don't know how much time it actually was, but I'm pretty sure it was light years. We discovered
a) that Mike and Logan are "the same person." We love to be hyperbolic. But really, they're the same.
b) that Princeton is challenging, intellectual and, as the Christian kids say, "worldly"
c) that the kids these days (not so much the Christian ones this time) are moving in together more and more and getting married less and less and that makes BETHANY sad (Bethany me)
d) that working night shifts at a psyche ward is NOT like a horror movie... unless you work in Trenton
e) that haircuts in north Jersey cost an arm and a leg and a rubber tree reference from the Wizard of Oz
Emilie's the business. She brought chocolately chocolate cookies and zoomed from topic to topic like a pro. I loved it. When it comes to conversations, I tend to be the younger kid at the museum: I read the plaque and look at the stuffed jaguar and move on. I don't stand and talk about the jaguar or ask more questions about the jaguar. I don't feel the need to establish a deeper understanding about the jaguar. It's just a jaguar. It's black and it doesn't really look like the jaguar from The Jungle Book. Even if it did, I didn't like The Jungle Book. I really wish she wasn't moving to New Zealand so SOON!
Greg, Alexis, Mike, and me made a ginger bread house. In the old days, our art class would make ginger bread haunted houses and tree houses. This was a good blast-to-the-past. One day, Mike and I will have to make homemade gingerbread houses. Like the one that
looks like the Weasley house. But we won't burn it down. That was an extremely inaccurate occurance in the movie, according to Mike. ;)
Last order of business: I read Mike's short story for his prose class today and was floored. He's so talented. Make him show you his work. Ask for autographs now, while you still can.
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