September 7, 2010 at 8:00 pm
at 7:31 pm
So occured the gravel-sleeping
Driving home from Gettysburg is always really beautiful.
We spent the long weekend camping. On Friday, we didn’t get to the campground until around midnight, which, since we couldn’t see anything, resulted in us pulling sleeping bags from the trunk and sleeping on a large patch of gravel. It didn’t make much difference. I could’ve slept well without the sleeping bag. I could’ve slept well in the fire pit.
The weather for the weekend ended up to be sunny and hoodie-appropriate, which is the most perfect kind of weather. I spent hours in the museum and bought Civil War craft books.
In the middle of the grounds, a bunch of reenactors set up a Civil War camp and proceeded to be walking relics. I wanted to wear a hoop skirt and a bonnet. They seemed to stay in character for the most part and I LOVED IT. On the way home, we listened to old war songs and I wished I didn’t have to go back to work.
Driving home from Gettysburg is always really beautiful.
We spent the long weekend camping. On Friday, we didn’t get to the campground until around midnight, which, since we couldn’t see anything, resulted in us pulling sleeping bags from the trunk and sleeping on a large patch of gravel. It didn’t make much difference. I could’ve slept well without the sleeping bag. I could’ve slept well in the fire pit.
The weather for the weekend ended up to be sunny and hoodie-appropriate, which is the most perfect kind of weather. I spent hours in the museum and bought Civil War craft books.
In the middle of the grounds, a bunch of reenactors set up a Civil War camp and proceeded to be walking relics. I wanted to wear a hoop skirt and a bonnet. They seemed to stay in character for the most part and I LOVED IT. On the way home, we listened to old war songs and I wished I didn’t have to go back to work.
at 6:13 pm
This weekend I slept on rocks
But today I went back to work.
And started a new blog.
My other place, which had a good run at close to ten years, was (very) slowly becoming dead flowers — flowers which I kept arranging and rearranging to make them last as long as possible, and which started to seriously rot and mold and smell up the place and even then I kept them for a while because I like flowers and am lazy enough to keep dead ones around, but now I’m finally throwing the whole vase away so as not to trouble my future mother-in-law.
As I’ve mentioned, my life has changed very much from living as a broke post-grad in a city that I felt I held a certain claim to, to moving to the country and embracing a career and organizing a home and learning how to cook for a soon-to-be husband because those..they never stop eating. And still loving my city, and possibly learning to farm, and coming to terms with my rendition of “24.”
The age, not the TV series. Though I did watch the complete series of Lost over the month of August, and that, THAT was a shipwreck. Planewreck.
My former entry-writing process:
Experience something uncommon.
Decide whether someone would be offended by my writing about it.
Mentally remove potentially offensive bits.
(Better for tumblr? No one sees tumblr.)
Start typing it out.
Think of other instances that could apply to theme of post.
Decide there isn’t a legitimate theme, abandon entry.
Remember something that could apply.
Rewrite post. Embellish some words.
Become frustrated and totally irritated.
Write an entry complaining about blogging in general.
(Comments off.)
Hate blogging.
Current plan:
Write what happened today, often, and with significantly less editing and regard.
So…that’s it. I’m switching to a diary format, in a new place, in an attempt to increase my anonymity. I would highly discourage subscribing. In fact, I wouldn’t recommend reading at all.
But today I went back to work.
And started a new blog.
My other place, which had a good run at close to ten years, was (very) slowly becoming dead flowers — flowers which I kept arranging and rearranging to make them last as long as possible, and which started to seriously rot and mold and smell up the place and even then I kept them for a while because I like flowers and am lazy enough to keep dead ones around, but now I’m finally throwing the whole vase away so as not to trouble my future mother-in-law.
As I’ve mentioned, my life has changed very much from living as a broke post-grad in a city that I felt I held a certain claim to, to moving to the country and embracing a career and organizing a home and learning how to cook for a soon-to-be husband because those..they never stop eating. And still loving my city, and possibly learning to farm, and coming to terms with my rendition of “24.”
The age, not the TV series. Though I did watch the complete series of Lost over the month of August, and that, THAT was a shipwreck. Planewreck.
My former entry-writing process:
Experience something uncommon.
Decide whether someone would be offended by my writing about it.
Mentally remove potentially offensive bits.
(Better for tumblr? No one sees tumblr.)
Start typing it out.
Think of other instances that could apply to theme of post.
Decide there isn’t a legitimate theme, abandon entry.
Remember something that could apply.
Rewrite post. Embellish some words.
Become frustrated and totally irritated.
Write an entry complaining about blogging in general.
(Comments off.)
Hate blogging.
Current plan:
Write what happened today, often, and with significantly less editing and regard.
So…that’s it. I’m switching to a diary format, in a new place, in an attempt to increase my anonymity. I would highly discourage subscribing. In fact, I wouldn’t recommend reading at all.
