Weekend of Cliches, Chants, and Cloth

Despite the fact that when I turn to look over my shoulder I glimpse a seemingly roofless pile of homework towering as a mini Everest in my bedroom, I am in a downright good mood.

Now, as to where my good mood stems from, I'm not terribly sure. It could be because of my decent-if-not-excellent weekend with my mother or because my dad isn't home right now. Oh, right, let me tell you about that! So I'm doing my Biology vocabulary but decide to take a little break after finishing approximately one half of it. When I stumble out of my bedroom, discover an empty house; my father is no where to be found and the car is missing. My father snuck out. My father snuck out. How weird is that?! Shouldn't I be the one doing the escaping? What does he have to do in secret? I guess I'll never know in time to post it here because he still hasn't come back. I could call, but please- why ruin the obviously brilliant cliche where I sit in the overstuffed armchair smoking a pipe in the dark while I wait for the household miscreant do surrepticiously edge his way in?! No, this is too good of a chance to pass up! Details later!


Perhaps on a more sensual note, I experienced one of those moments this weekend where you lose track of the direction and bearing of date and time. I was at the FSU football game this weekend and 30 minutes for the alleged kickoff but it started pouring. So my parents and I made the quick executive decision to just leave and head for Hooters for wings and to watch the game there. Granted, we weren't the only ones trying to get out of the rain and it turning into a fullscale exodus. Once we were in the relative comfort of cover, we inched our way in the chaotic mess around the inner track of the stadium. And it began as a quite rumble, almost undecernablem but within a few short seconds the noise sorted itself into a chant. It washed over us and everyone couldn't help themselves but to join in, chanting the FSU war call. As ridiculous as it sounds, I felt a Seminole connection. I felt like a Native America, trudging with my comerades as we weather the storm. It was just one of those hair-raising experiences I'll never forget.


Unrelated, my mother and I went out and got the makings for Phil's Halloween costume. We are constructing him a Slytherin quidditch robe, complete with leather fastener and lining. It's going to be wonderful. If only the sewing machine would have worked. Damn.


So that was my weekend at a glance. Enjoy the last few hours of weekend yourself!

-Jonathan