(no subject)
Oct. 25th, 2005 10:57 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
stoopbeck"Hey, Mom."
"Alex! I meant to call and check in on you-- how are you doing?"
"I need some advice."
"Umm, okay, what's up?"
"Well, I spent from about 2:30 to 5 this morning throwing up and/or clutching my stomach in pain, and I don't have any Pepto, and I don't know what to do, should I go to classes or what?"
"Well, I would just curl up and go to sleep for a while. Don't worry about classes. Um. Alex? I've got to go."
"Oh, sorry, didn't mean to take you away from work..."
"No, I just have to go throw up. Love you! Bye!"
"Uh... bye, Mom."
----
In other news. My innocuous little poem nearly caused a riot. Well, that's inaccurate. One word in my poem nearly caused a riot. One can clutch a mug of cider to oneself, yes? I am not wrong in this, am I? 'Twas immensely amusing, and somewhat frightening. Yayy class!
In other other news: I've currently been having a marathon of the second season of The Dead Zone. Unfortunately, one of the DVDs refuses to play properly. And by "properly" I mean "at all." It goes all weird and fragmented, and the sound jumps every two or three seconds of audio, and gah. Guess those four eps weren't important or anything.
Sigh.
