A certain demanding, but not altogether displeasing individual wishes for me to write, because she is bored and has nothing better to do than pester a friend and read his random musings on life.
It's my "spring break" right now, and the name is especially fitting since the day after I got home, Pittsburgh received one of its largest snowfalls of the winter (which for this winter, isn't totally surprising). My school is on the trimester system, or as I refer to it, "the pregnancy schedule". As such, our finals and midterms do not coincide with any other schools, and our February break is an entity unto itself.
In other words, it's just me here.
Of course, I've been spending time with my family, and I "surprised" my Grandma by visiting her for dinner (though, I had to call to tell my Grandpa to order extra pizza, so the cat was out of the bag). Tomorrow's another dinner with my other set of Grandparents, so that'll be nice.
Aside from that, I've been spending my time watching tv, hanging around on facebook, and reading "Jurassic Park" for perhaps the 10th time. It's my favorite book. I've been sitting so much that the mattress on my bed is indented with a perfect imprint of my ass.
My plans for the rest of break are to become a ping pong champion, and act as an ambassador of goodwill to China. I will also run from Greenbow, Alabama all the way to the West coast, then back to the East coast, and then having amassed a group of followers, I will coin the phrase "shit happens" and then simply go home.
On the final day of break, I will save my one true love from her captors, who are in order, a Spaniard, a giant, and finally, some tiny fellow. I will defeat them all, killing only the third, and eventually befriending the first two during my quest to save her. Though I will be pushed toward the brink of death, I will miraculously revive, and defeat the prince of a far off land, who is holding m'lady captive. We shall ride off, whereupon it will be revealed that my life is simply a story within a story, and I am actually being narrated by an old man, as he tells my story to his grandson, Fred Savage.
Then I'll go back to Erie for a bit.