Jendaiya wrote:

Does everyone have their moving buddy?

Do the voices in my head count as moving buddies?

John Hepner wrote:

Do the voices in my head count as moving buddies?

Yes!

What would people do without voices in their heads? Sounds kind of insane to me.

The voices in my head even speak different languages. I'd understand that if I'd grown up with two languages, but I come from a boring all-austrian family. Wonder where that english voice came from?

It's just past eight on a friday night. I'm sitting here, laptop in front of me, cookies beside me, books underneath cookies. Cat on the other side of me. Song that's playing: This is How I Disappear, by MCR. It's still sunny-ish outside. I had chips and salsa for dinner. I'm bored out of my freaking mind. Nothing on tv. No movies to watch. The books I'm reading are too thinky for a friday. I'm all alone, well, except for the cats. Husband is out of town, son is visiting friend. The song that's play now is: Bury Me In Black, also by MCR. I keep thinking I should just go to sleep. I keep feeling like I should be doing something fun on a friday night, but this town sucks (socially, for me, anyways) and I have nothing to do. I should prolly have gone to the exhibit opening this afternoon at the museum but I just wanted to clean up so I could have the house clean for the next week. I did go to town, briefly. Bought tealights. Candles. Shoulda bought something to drink. Sherry is for colder weather, it seems. Something light and fun would be better. My cat hasn't moved in ages. He's all curled up next to me. Warm, he is. I made a new email account, because, well, why not. I netsurfed. Am still bored. I have a researchy project to do, but I dun wanna. The song that's playing now is: I'm Not Okay, MCR. I think shuffle must be turned off if all I'm getting is MCR. I feel like hearing some Moonspell. After this song. I did my nails today. Immediatly started typing. Didn't get nail polish on the keyboard, surprise!, but then, the keyboard is black, so who'd have noticed if I did, right? I feel like writing, a bit, but not the story I should be working on, which is an annoyance. I should prolly get a blog or something if I'm just gonna ramble like this, ad infinitum. *giggles*

*packs up boxes of books*

*sigh*

I can tell. It's going to be a boring night. Again. Sit here, do nothing. Blah. Meh.

*sigh*

And in case you don't know Mountain Boys from anything, I'll tell ya 'bout them, because they're fun. Funner than Mountain Girls, though I could be biased.

Mountain Boys are, in fact, men. They come in two varieties, posh and grunge. The grunge sort have a tendancy to sexiness, the posh sort tend to a calm arrogance. The posh ones, first, then, becuase they'd want it that way, whether they'd admit that or not.

They are the wealthy outdoorsmen of the area. Not hunters or loggers. Nope. They're they sort who truly love to hike and climb and camp and raft and in winter they heli-ski, because they can afford it. Their gear is always the best, they drive eco-friendly cars when forced to drive. They wear name-brand couture, not because it's name brand, but because they take the outdoorsing seriously and they want--and can afford--the best. They are a bit stand-offish as a group, will wear hair short or long but they don't do scruff unless it's induced by long periods of time in the bush. Other than that, they are well-groomed and decently mannered in public.

The grunge sort are the new version of hippies. Their clothing is hemp, they wear colours that matchthe earth. I've seen more than one wearing a sarong, which is, indeed, hot, on these young scruffy guys. Hair is often long, worn in dreads if they ain't lucky enough to have wild curly locks. Unshaven is in, only so long as it makes them looks scruffy, not redneck. They carry large backpacks, wear hiking boots, are well pierced and tatooed. I find them most often at the local hostels. Not that I go looking for them. My museum is across the road from the biggest hostel. These guys rove about in groups and are afton accompanied by bra-less dread-wearing, hemp clothed Mountain Girls. Dogs are popular, big happy ones being the commonly accepted variety. Babies are not uncommon in these groups, too. These are the group who takes to prodigous amounts of marijuana. They aren't stand-offish. They'll smile, say hello. Look you over. That sort of thing. I fear I offend them in my all-black attire, though I'm sure they'd perk a bit if they knew it was linen and cotton I'm wearing and not something non-natural.

Yeah, I typed that all out and then cut and pasted it in chunks. Why? Because I could.

BORED.

And my hands bloody hurt.

It's prettier than tv, that's for sure.

*nvites everyone to town to stare at Mountain Boys*

The girls are really unimpressive. They just look like they need to bathe. Except the posh sort. They just look snooty.

*joins Jen and Mwy at the window*

Why am I not tired yet?
It's 2:30am.
I was exhusted before work and then I went and stood on my feet for most of the 8 hours, biked there and back, and I'm more awake now. :S

*starts collecting all the tea together in one spot on the counter for easy last-minute packing*

*orders up some PODS ("Portable On Demand Storage") Units*

*packs her bedroom at Infinity's (including the "Wardrobe" into the unit and locks in readiness for the move*

*cuddles with Infinity*

*pops in*

Looks like we'll be ready to go whenever we need to be.

*relaxes*