Home.

I forgot what humidity was until I got home.

My hair's not a fan, but I really like it when there's so much water in the air that you never quite feel dry. It's kind of like a security blanket.

For the past three days I've been waking up to chirping birds and rustling leaves and all of those stereotypical summer sounds.

My favourite, though, is the sound the plaster and wood of the walls make as the sun heats everything up. They groan and knock on all sides of every room.

It's not subtle either. I think that these sort of hazy descriptions are supposed to be more part of the scenery, but the creaks are loud and don't stop until I get out of bed to start the day.

Actually, they don't stop until nighttime, and then it's time for cicadas.

I miss college and everyone there already. Still, I am glad to be home.

I haven't seen any of my friends yet, but that will change in a few hours when people come over for pizza and movies.

FearNet is a distinct possibility. Awwwww yeah.

Vair, vair excited, even though I've been running around on the job hunt all day, everyday since I arrived back and have failed miserably at reestablishing any form of a sleep schedule.

Oh, and the Internet has contacted me.

Time to call Will Smith.

What else, what else?

Went to a concert with my parents, but that's for another time.

Because I am le tired.

And I'm watching The African Queen.

I love this movie way too much, and not just because of Humphrey Bogart.

Well, he doesn't hurt.

Um. My new Fringe post is up. I'm doing some ~research~ for the next one.

That was my attempt at creating suspense.

Aaaaaaaanyway...

_

Follower Love-Fest #6: Chelsey

Okay, I'm pretty sure that this whole not-being-able-to-click-through-to-profiles problem comes from my own poor understanding of technology. Every time this happens, I'm just going to make up things about my beautiful readers. And then I'll have to go to confession for lying. Or something.

Chelsey and I met on a cruise to Barbados. Originally, the trip was meant to have gone to Alaska, but there was a sudden tax on Bugles that year. The ship's captain, a big fan of the salty treats, had quite a stock on board and refused to pay the tax on principle. So, we changed course. The two of us met while trading our jumpers for sundresses when we docked. We've been pals ever since.