Rested and Relaxed after the Holiday? Not So Much.
For those of you wondering at the long silence of the Lost One, to mis-quote one of the cartoons of my youth, "everyone can relax...The Lost One has returned." For those who thought the shock of having seen the final Star Wars film was the cause...Good guess. But incorrect (the Lost One is a dork, but there are dorks and there are Dorks, if you take my meaning). While the Lost One will cop to being monumentally disappointed in the film (totally immune to any logic external to it's plot [this character must die! Why? Because it's in the script, silly.] , sub- Attack of the Clones dialogue [which quite frankly deserves it's own, Whoa...], and special effects that were "pretty", but thinner then the paper the script was...Not written, extruded?, on) , the sheer disappointment of the day was not the cause of the silence.
So what was? As usual, school, forced aside thoughts of all other activities. Finals are coming and reading must be made up, papers written, and professors consulted. All of it has me like the proverbial duck on the pond, moving a thousand miles an hour, while appearing to be going no where at all. Oh, well almost done, and the Lost One already earned two credits with a full two weeks left, now just fifteen more to go.
Of course with the holiday, sooooome time could have been set aside for blogging, right? Probably, but the Lost One spent the entire weekend in a NyQuil® induced haze after contracting a cold from his little Brother. While the Lost One has relatives who measure the success or failure of a given evening based on how much of the evening one can't remember, the Lost One is not of that camp, and the entire weekend, sucked. Hard. The funniest part came when the Lost One was required to call in sick on Friday, the most beautiful day of the year in the Lost One's little corner of the US, one could almost hear the wheels turning in his boss' head. Beautiful day + "sick" employee = sunshine disease. Add to that the fact that another employee had called in sick, and you get one very suspicious boss. Not that the Lost One cared. At all. Even a little tiny bit. Let me put it this way, if caring were an Olympic event..Not only would the Lost One not have gone to the games, he wouldn't have made it to the nationals. Nor would he have even been the kid who sees caring on the TV as a child and says, "that's what I'm going to do when I grow up." and then gets sidetracked into a life of crime. My bed was calling. Here endeth the argument.
Having mentioned the newly christened, Roaming One (he got into his first Choice U, and a new cell phone over the weekend), the Lost One must, at this timely juncture send the Roaming One his respects. This truly will be the year of Diaspora at the Lost Household as The Lost One moves to a Great Plains State (The Lost One mistakenly said mid-west in an earlier post, Bad Lost One! No Biscuit!), the Roaming One moves into an apartment, and the Wandering One moves to Boston to attend MIT. All of which leaves the Lost One's mother all alone. Let the Countdown begin:
30 days to the Diaspora.
So what was? As usual, school, forced aside thoughts of all other activities. Finals are coming and reading must be made up, papers written, and professors consulted. All of it has me like the proverbial duck on the pond, moving a thousand miles an hour, while appearing to be going no where at all. Oh, well almost done, and the Lost One already earned two credits with a full two weeks left, now just fifteen more to go.
Of course with the holiday, sooooome time could have been set aside for blogging, right? Probably, but the Lost One spent the entire weekend in a NyQuil® induced haze after contracting a cold from his little Brother. While the Lost One has relatives who measure the success or failure of a given evening based on how much of the evening one can't remember, the Lost One is not of that camp, and the entire weekend, sucked. Hard. The funniest part came when the Lost One was required to call in sick on Friday, the most beautiful day of the year in the Lost One's little corner of the US, one could almost hear the wheels turning in his boss' head. Beautiful day + "sick" employee = sunshine disease. Add to that the fact that another employee had called in sick, and you get one very suspicious boss. Not that the Lost One cared. At all. Even a little tiny bit. Let me put it this way, if caring were an Olympic event..Not only would the Lost One not have gone to the games, he wouldn't have made it to the nationals. Nor would he have even been the kid who sees caring on the TV as a child and says, "that's what I'm going to do when I grow up." and then gets sidetracked into a life of crime. My bed was calling. Here endeth the argument.
Having mentioned the newly christened, Roaming One (he got into his first Choice U, and a new cell phone over the weekend), the Lost One must, at this timely juncture send the Roaming One his respects. This truly will be the year of Diaspora at the Lost Household as The Lost One moves to a Great Plains State (The Lost One mistakenly said mid-west in an earlier post, Bad Lost One! No Biscuit!), the Roaming One moves into an apartment, and the Wandering One moves to Boston to attend MIT. All of which leaves the Lost One's mother all alone. Let the Countdown begin:
30 days to the Diaspora.
posted by Lost in The World at
11:23 AM
1 Comments:
...the year of Diaspora at the Lost Household...
Oh Lost One, you have finally awoken the pedantic "Dork" inside this reader, every one knows that Diaspora, refers to the dispersion of Jews, out of Israel durning the 6th century B.C., when they were exiled to what was then Babylonia. You repeat this gastly miskate later on, in your ending line ...30 days to the Diaspora... I'm guessing that you meant the diaspora, A dispersion of a people from their original homeland. Dervived from the greek word diaspeirein-to spread about. It's people like you that sicken me, yes SICKEN me.
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