(no subject)

I must be quite mad. I've agreed to go back and help out at Godiva. I really don't know what's wrong with me.

I went to the Patt. school picnic this weekend. The running joke soon became that I was, in fact, a CIA agent, because I looked like I belonged, but nobody knew anything about me. ::sigh:: Just because I never know what people mean by "where are you from?" And I'm not very good at making small talk about myself.
I've always had this problem; there were people in high school complaining they'd known me for 3 years, but they didn't know me, really. I didn't get the memo that says that you have to tell people the complete story of your life on first meeting.

Hung out with Amanda some-I really meant to have better plans than that, but "going out and doing stuff" worked.

And now I'm utterly procrastinating. I'm supposed to be writing a little paper, the purpose of which is (I think) a combination of teaching the art of summary, and producing a writing sample. Unfortunately, yours truly was given the gift of summary by an evil probably well-intentioned fairy, in lieu of the gift of flowery prose. ::Sigh:: Wouldn't be so bad, except I was also visited by the "you already know this, why am I telling you about it" fairy, and the "how about I write about something I actually care about" fairy.

( Nerd/geek/dork? All 3! )