sorcyress | (no subject)

Soyeah.

I'm working at Target these days. Yeah, it sucks. I have fully entered the disillusioned worker stage. If you have it, go watch "Mannys First Day" (The second episode of Black Books). Fran's expression just prior to her saying "I haven't slept with you...and you're NOT trying to freak me out..." is exactly how I feel.

Day camp is not bad, besides the fact that I have a unit full of additude. Luckily, the two prep girls who I thought I would not at all get along with are not that bad --one of them was attempting to teach me ghetto slang (I am apparently never to use the phrase "gettin' busy" --she didn't exactly explain why) and the two of them can pretty much just entertain each other.

The complete demon child, who has been trying to outstubborn me by completely ignoring everything I say and not talking to me has gotten better. Plus, whatever. So she's not talking to me --that makes my job easier.

And then we had thunder, and got herded into Peterson. Fine, whatever. Songs could amuse the girls, the girls could amuse myself, and Veronica is an adapt at taking charge of large groups of people. I myself decided to be an adapt at herding girls through the bathroom, and while I was holed up in there, all the Quartermaster girls (The cool kids at camp) and Blue Canary, dissapeared.

Fine. Whatever.

And then, Blue FINALLY came back, babbling something about PickPocket hurting her arm. Whatever, drama.

And I popped in on PickPocket, and she seemed hurt but being taken care of, and I popped back out and Blue grabbed me and hugged me and started crying on my shoulder and just generally needing to be held.

Blue...doesn't cry on shoulders. She's damnably closed off, unfortunately. As Kawa and Wolf wandered through and joined our "ohshitohshit sobfest" in the corner, I began to get the whole Something Is Wrong vibe.

The worst part of people you care about being hurt is being helpless to fix them. God, that sucks.

So, long story short (Too late!) Pickpocket got dragged off in an Ambulance. She's fine, and will return to camp safe, sound, and with a cast on her arm tomorrow.

Soyeah. That's my life. Poke me if you need an explanation of any of the campy terms.

Love and such
~Kat

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Hm. I've never heard of "adept" as a noun. Interesting.

I'm more used to it as a noun, mostly because it was a class of mage in a series of books I read. So they would say 'an adept' often. --I think that's more how I was trying to use it.

~Sor

Ah, Piers Anthony . . . I wonder just how much reading his novels shaped who I am, and how much I kept reading his novels because of who I am. I think that was one of his better series.

Mercedes Lackey, actually, and her Heralds of Valdemar series. I have, sadly, never read any Xanth, though Veronica swears by them.

That's a good thing to wonder. It's pretty clear M.L. influenced everything from my painful "cannot fail, cannot 'let people down'" additude to my somewhat loose morals about sex (Not for me, but hell, go have fun, don't hurt anyone. :p) This needs to become a more coherent thoughtstream sometime.

~Sor

*gag* Apprentice Adept, actually, not Xanth. Although the first handful of Xanth are good, they're not that impressive. No need to be sad about not reading them . . . he has other stuff which is much better. (Apprentice Adept and Incarnations of Immortality spring to mind.)

M.L. I keep meaning to read, but never have.

Ahhhhhh. I'll poke around and see if we have any of those. If not, can I borrow them from you?

Lackey is not life-changingly amazing, but she was handed to me right smack in the middle of my formative years, and she helped me stay reasonably sane through most of middle school. For that, at least, I owe her reccomendations.

~Sor

That pretty much describes my opinion of Anthony.

You're welcome to borrow them. I think I'll have to retrieve them from New York, though, so give me a bit of warning.