@Owl: - THE NAMING LAWS SEEM LIKE TOTAL NONSENSE DON'T TRY TO MAKE SENSE OF IT don't hurt your head
- hmmm you may be right about the chosen names in fiction thing? I know I had other examples than the two I mentioned, because in those movies they definitely pick their name as a coolness front. Or at least Flynn/Eugene did, Wyldstyle/Lucy probably did it to be more ~*unique and individual*~ and already had a history of going through a lot of names before that... I just can't thing of many stories where picking your own name seems like a positive and permanent thing, it's almost always seen like something fake, and that's kinda sad. But I know someone recommended Stargirl to me after ranting about this a year ago so maybe I should read that finally
(twilight is totally a comedy)
((i didnt get the shoe meme either. I didnt know it was about shoes in specific))
OH OH I THINK I REMEMBERED ONE! INDIANA JONES? MAYBE? He chose that name (after his old dog I think?) and I think he kept it and eventually his dad was like "Ok I won't call you Junior anymore..." So there's that I guess? I suppose that it's just not something that happens to be in a lot of the movie scripts and stuff these days, like other representation and stuff.
Owl Report:
Had to go out for dinner (nooo I specifically skipped class today because I can't do social lately aaaa ;-;) with one sister, dad, grandparents, two Italians and a random guy who was their client- it was all agriculture business stuff. Imagine those awkward dinner scenes in mafia movies, but replace most of the crime with fruit and tractors, sit me in the middle of the table instead of at the end- I had to shake hands with everyone and be a model daughter and help people pronounce the fancy menu dishes. "Ciabatta" came up a lot, and no matter HOW many times I and the Italian lady said it, no one else could say it. To be fair, a lot of the table guests weren't the best readers on a good day. :/ And then: THE MEN JUST ATE ALL THE BREAD. Grandma didn't help, she was like "Give your husband more bread. More!"
The stories.
I was nearly hit in the face multiple times by an over exaggerated hand gesture, and couldn't move my feet because the Italian man had taken up all the room under the table with HIS FEET. And then the client guy didn't know what asparagus was. We got to hear the wallaby war stories. The kangaroo stories. The camel stories (Italian man farms camels and fruit) I had to EXPLAIN MY DEGREE. THE HORROR.
I was a lot hesitant about going to this restaurant because last time- when it was a different restaurant- I got really bad food poisoning + general dislike. And now they've made it all fancy. I gave them a full on critique in my head. U___U
- fire too small to heat such a big place
- seating laid out weird
- everything was grey
- no curtains so any heating was pointless: mrs Italian lady was super cold and wore her blood red leather gloves for the whole time poor thing.
- I don't like their logo
On top of that I did a design critique <_<
- logo boring
- menu looks fancy but was really cold to touch
- ugly plain paper inside
- bad inconsistent printing
- inconsistent LOGOS: some pages had a hideous tan shadow behind the text. Other were mercifully shadowless.
- type too small, spacing between menu items too small
- type was in BOLD FOR SOME REASON
So I ordered a mushroom medley risotto because I thought "Well, I can't get TOO poisoned from this" and it had kale and goat curd and it tasted burnt and the kale was sad and the curd..I couldn't eat it because it was just too overpowering. So I'd give it a 4/10 maybe. Being generous.
The dessert was nice though: I ordered a local pear tarte tatin with rosewater icecream, and it was really nice. They put a star anise on the tarte and little rose petals on things so it was super cute. And very tasty. My sister stole half my tiny scoop of icecream though, and grandma forced me to eat half my sisters choc-beetroot cake. (I'm supposed toh beh on a diiiiieeettttttttt)
I got a hot chocolate and.....
....
...
.
....
It had no marshmallows.
;____;
Only a spoon.
And so the dinner eventually drew to an end, my Social O Metre was dead, and I was glad to finally escort the old people back to their car and drive home.
AND THEN.
YES THERE IS MORE I'M SO SORRY.
Mum calls- she and my other sister were in the city: sister had insisted that she go support her theatre friend tonight at a showcase thing, and give lifts to other friends. And it went late into the night. On their way home the highway has been shut down by police because of snow, so they're both trapped on the other side of the mountain for the night. They're going to stay at sisters friend's house. Needless to say Dad is real impressed.
So we got to hear a lovely rant about how much of a burden my sister is on him specifically, and how she's going to kill his wife, and how she should never have been born, the usual. We stop at the grandparents place to drop everyone off, and are forced to have another cup tea while dad tells everyone how my sister has ruined his life; actually pointing at wedding photos on the wall like "this was before she was born. Obviously." And then somehow the conversation suddenly includes "The boy she's going to see sing, he's gay you know. A homosexual." And the grandparents are like "Gosh. Kids these days all have things wrong with them." And I'm like "..." In the corner because I like the roof over my head.
And then the Italians needed to go to our house to use the internet to book flights and accommodation on the mainland for tomorrow, so they come up to the house and dads lost the wifi code card in his office somewhere. *sigh* Aaaaand of course he blames it on the absent sister etc etc etc etc.
but anyway I think they've found a way to book the things while I'm typing. I'm probably going to get in trouble for not helping them look :/ and while that is going on I'm looking after the cats in my room to keep them out of the way, which is usually fine but they've gone BONKERS. CAT PARKOUR. 9___9 I'm too tired to do anything but angrily whisper "No" at them... It's so effective. I just want to go to bed already. They're randomly clawing the walls...they better not scratch my sisters prom dress x___x omg
THE END?
My sister found the wifi code: it was way behind dad's office desk.
Mum and sister had a toast dinner and are borrowing pajamas and things over there. And I get to put up with mr grumpy-butt for my whole week off. Whoo.
SO.
Tomorrow's going to be a real blast.
