If I got an A, I would flip and freak out. It would be incredible.
I have these cousins. I have these awesome cousins. I have these awesome singing cousins.
They recorded a song Jonah wrote* called "Writing a Paper" and I came across it today as I was setting up my laptop to work on my essay in the library. I played it over once and laughed (silently) really, really hard. The rest of the day it played over and over in my head. I shared it with the friends I was working with and they also laughed. We've been singing lines back and forth today -- mostly the one about procrastinating. So, here is some love for you, Jonah. And Nathan too. The harmonies were wildly popular.
Now it's story time! This is the story of Evey's first tour.
Early last week the registrar's office let me know that my training to be a tour guide would be on Friday and part of this training was going on a tour with one of last year's tour guides. Just before lecture started, I chatted with Brandan, my co-tour guide, and he mentioned something about showing his room on the tour. "Will they want to see my room?" I asked him, quickly thinking about the shitty state of my room, beds unmade, crap everywhere and my roommate's empties sitting out. "I dunno," he said, "They probably would have asked."
I let it pass.
After lecture I met with the tour guide to start the tour and she informed me that yes, we would be looking at my room.
I immediately started to freak out. I tried to breathlessly and quietly explain to the guide that my room was in no state for showing. Could I go fix it up? I mostly got a no, stay with the tour to learn how to do it. My anxiety increased.
Once we hit the library, I knew that we would be going to my room next, so I took off for my room. I don't think I breathed for 3 minutes straight as I ran around the room. You know that cartoon where the kid shoves everything in his closet and under the bed covers? That's exactly what I did. I finished just in time to graciously let the tour in. Phew.
I tried watching the American presidential debate last night. A bunch of us wrote out words to drink to while watching, but they weren't saying our words and just repeating "Wall Street" and "Main Street" over and over. Bo-ring. So I stopped watching.
This is the second FYP essay weekend, so I should try to accomplish something before I goof off for the night at nine. I'm at 618 words (yessssss).
*I think. Am I right Jonah?