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Aug. 28th, 2005 09:58 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
besubversiveI have outgrown the dorm lifestyle officially. My father's truck was packed with boxes and my statio wagon was also filled, and all of this stuff was intended for a room smaller than my actual bedroom that I will be sharing with another girl for half of the year. As I unpack, I'm actually repacking boxes of stuff to take back home. No possible creative storage solution that I could afford on my budget would be able to accomodate my things. I've simply outsourced myself in the area of my stuff to space ratio. ::sigh::
But I'm mostly all moved in now; just one more trip to the store for plastic bins and my work is done.
Purple ceiling, very pretty.
The colors in this restaurant are stunning.
Our table.
Dad and Shelly.
And then, around the yard:
Me, in the tailpipe of my dad's Road King.
The arm of a bench, a corner of the front plant bed.
Streaky window paint on my car.
The stalls of the bathroom closet to our room are decidedly NOT fat-friendly. My elbows brush either side and thank goodness the doors open out, or I'd have to stand on the toilet to get out. So, I have to go searching today for the roomiest bathroom stalls on my floor. There's GOT to be something better.
I had a dream last night in which I was all buddy-buddy with my middle school crush, Steven Robusto. I wanted to show him my tattoos. And I smiled a lot. That's all I can remember.
My day looks like this: Waste a little more time in front of the computer, get all cha-cha, go to brunch, hit up the bookstore to record names of textbooks, spend some money on half.com purchasing said textbooks, go to the store for a few more plastic storage dealies, flirt more with someone hot through Livejournal comments and maybe a dirty email... and after that, who knows?
But I'm mostly all moved in now; just one more trip to the store for plastic bins and my work is done.
Purple ceiling, very pretty.
The colors in this restaurant are stunning.
Our table.
Dad and Shelly.
And then, around the yard:
Me, in the tailpipe of my dad's Road King.
The arm of a bench, a corner of the front plant bed.
Streaky window paint on my car.
The stalls of the bathroom closet to our room are decidedly NOT fat-friendly. My elbows brush either side and thank goodness the doors open out, or I'd have to stand on the toilet to get out. So, I have to go searching today for the roomiest bathroom stalls on my floor. There's GOT to be something better.
I had a dream last night in which I was all buddy-buddy with my middle school crush, Steven Robusto. I wanted to show him my tattoos. And I smiled a lot. That's all I can remember.
My day looks like this: Waste a little more time in front of the computer, get all cha-cha, go to brunch, hit up the bookstore to record names of textbooks, spend some money on half.com purchasing said textbooks, go to the store for a few more plastic storage dealies, flirt more with someone hot through Livejournal comments and maybe a dirty email... and after that, who knows?
