*yawns* Augh, I'm tired again. I'm not even tired in the healthy, I've-seriously-exerted-myself way that I usually am at school. It's being here. It's the air. It's the activity - none of it really real. I clean up my room, I go shopping, I set up new furniture. None of the exercise is intense, none of it absorbing, so I don't end up exhausting myself, just tiring myself out. There's a big difference, and I don't like it.

This morning I didn't wake up until 9, because I was up so late last night writing an entry. *yawns* I can feel myself doing it again tonight, although I certainly hope I'll both get to bed earlier and wake up earlier this time around. I kind of need to, since I'm planning on heading with my dad into DC tomorrow. However, I haven't yet planned where I'm going or what I'm going to do. I didn't expect to go to DC so early, so things are still pretty hazy in my head. I'm going to have to do some crash planning tomorrow morning. Preferrably on the train, but my dad wants to drive.

Breakfast was green bean soup, something I had been craving for some time (ever since Adrian's cold sores, actually). I also ate two [different] halves of the Chinese bread I had made my dad load up on yesterday. They were disappointing (not fresh enough) but eh, that's what you get for not living in a great place like Vancouver, which is as China as you can get without its actually being China.

I was good enough to do laundry this morning, and so the first part of the day was interspersed with laundry activities, conversation with a couple of the tenants (the newest one is quite cute! Tall and lean, with a nice face), and watching a Chinese comedy with my dad. It was disappointing, how little of the show I understood. True, they spoke with a Beijing accent, which, when spoken quickly, is harder for me to understand than accentless Mandarin. And true, much of what was funny were allusions to culture of that time and space. But still... My incomprehension then just made me think of my quiet shame around HQ and AL and JM and all those others. Did I really just waste my summer in China? What a pity. It was such a sacrifice, after all.

After a late lunch, we finally decided to go out and do something. My dad had vetoed Shenandoah, so I suggested Great Falls and the George Washington Memorial Parkway. One, because I wanted to stretch my legs and get into that zone of physical concentration which inevitably daily at Cornell. Two, because I wanted my dad to observe me driving [well]. Besides, I had been on the Parkway once or twice before and enjoyed it very much. It's one of those scenic roadways, curving alongside the Potomac as it does, with low stone walls bordering it rather than utilitarian guard rails.

Traffic was alternately good and bad on I-95, but everywhere else was fine. After I had gotten onto the Parkway proper, I remember smiling with pure pleasure at the feeling of driving the new car on such a beautiful highway, listening to Natalie Imbruglia and wearing my [Matrix-reminiscent] sunglasses in the bright sunlight.

We had wanted to make a stop along the way before we left the Parkway, and we finally managed to pull into Turkey Run Park before hitting 495, which is where we would've exited. As soon as we stepped out of the car, however, the pitter patter of raindrops hitting dry leaves began to dance around. The sounds grew denser and louder, and it wasn't long before we prudently decided to turn around, lest we get mired in wet clay or struck by lightning hearkened by thunder crashing off in the distance. I myself was thinking, "Lovely, now my dad gets to see me drive in rain and dark. What could be better?"

We thought about going to Maryland or some place in DC, but it was a late Sunday afternoon and I didn't think anything would be open. So we slowly meandered our way back through DC (turn there! No, no! Don't turn! ... Okay, all right, I guess we can go this way too ...). At one point I saw a beautiful boy scowling through the rain as he pedalled furiously by. His hair was mussed, soft and brown; his cheeks coloured with high streaks of red. He was the very picture of resistance, fleece flying behind him and defiance in his expression.

Back on 95, we bypassed the exit to the house and instead went to Potomac Mills and looked at furniture. I swear, everytime I come back here, I go to IKEA. It's like a tradition or something. I know that place so well now ... This time, I finally convinced my father to buy me these absolutely adorable tables. Although, we were not able to settle on seating, which is rapidly making itself known to be a problem. Sore butt case in point.

Most of the drive was spent talking about Adrian. I told my dad more about him - all good things, actually; couldn't find anything in my head that would give anything other than a good impression. My dad didn't actually give me that much advice - once again, just general, abstract suggestions and warnings. I think he's reserving judgement for when he actually meets Adrian, and I would guess that mostly what he took away from the conversations was how I feel about Adrian. Mainly, that I feel more seriously about him than my dad wants, but then again, that's always been the case. I told him about crying the night Adrian left, to which he exclaimed a dismayed, "Really?" Really really.

In particular, he was struck by how physically small Adrian is. I told him so, but when we were looking at furniture, and my dad told how my proposition that Adrian come visit us during Break made him think that I really needed more and larger furniture (ie, twin size bed too small, need a full or double for when my *ahem* future husband comes by as we visit together). I laughed and said that Adrian and I could totally fit on a twin, he was that small. My father gave me a look like, what? That small? Yeah, I told him, that small.

Of course, I deliver all this information to him in a tough, rigorously evaluated manner. It occurs to me now that my persona around my dad is different from my other personas. It's totally real but tough. I'm not tender around my dad and I never break down around him either. I'm cynical but able to laugh at myself and accept new ideas. I'm nonchalant about negative and neutral things, but excited and passionate about positive things. I think my dad brings out the best in me.

I started to assemble the furniture before dinner, which was delectable (*croons* so good ... soooooooooo good), and finished afterwards. I tried out a couple of configurations, and finally settled on one, with which I'm still not very happy, but with which I can live, for now. I'll try out a couple more configurations tomorrow, but the lack of appropriate seating is definitely a significant constraint.

Adrian was kind enough to set me up here and we played around a little with settings and whatnot. My mom called ... I'm going to have to start scheduling tasks into my week, because I did bring stuff with me to do, which I should do, and which I won't do unless I schedule them. Time flows away so easily - no wonder I detest aimless movement. The random heuristic is rarely a procedure for attaining optimality.

Watch me crumble into bed ...

goodbye for real - 2006-04-10

women not in engineering - 2005-12-27

another day turned sour - 2005-03-23

you just didn't know when it was coming - 2005-03-23

one free trip to washington, dc - 2005-03-22