The time when the old year goes out and the new one comes in. When people swear they'll lose weight. Or draw more. Or get better grades. The time of year where they reflect upon them self and ponder their actions and karma. The time of year where they start off with a clean slate.
Me?
This is the time of year where I can drink six glasses of cider out of a wine glass and stay up stupidly late without getting in trouble.
So yeah. Happy early New Years, everyone. Hopefully it'll be a good one for this fledgling blog. Remember to tell everyone you know about Critical Insanity. I'd love to be famous! And come on! Who doesn't love dragons? It's all about them!
My friend, Rae from Listen to the Raen Fall (See the Awesome Thing List, mmkay?) invited me to go shop for books with her.
This seemed brilliant. I had seventy-five bucks in Barnes and Nobles gift cards, and besides. It meant I could go out and see the world and develop tolerance for light. Every day I don’t go outside, I grow to hate light just a bit more.
Grab everything I need, namely my hat and jacket (Which were already on, of course…), some money (ten dollar bill. Remember this.), gift cards, and a metro student pass. This thing works only at DC stops and some Maryland stops. Again, remember this.
The walk to my station is uneventful. I’m listening to my iPod, cruising along, feeling like awesome. Train ride is also uneventful. Still listening to iPod, pretty excited over its surviving of battery crash and figuring out playlists count as albums. (Technology hates me, okay?)
It doesn’t get bad until I leave. Stick my fare card in and get this:
I blink, surprised, but none the less do as it asks me to and go to the exit fare machine. I stick in my card through the first slot I see, and it takes it then spits out. I assume it is magically fixed and resume my happy iPod listening to leave. I’m greeted with this.
I return to the exit fare machine and look at it, dumbfounded. It hits me after I force feed my card two more times. Ooooh! Bill return! I’m such an idiot! I stick my card through the proper hole, and am pleased when it seems to function. I stick in my ten and…
Nothing. It spits it back out. I make a sad face, than see this:
I only have a single ten and I’ve officially hit panic mode. So I whip out my cell and call Rae.
Rae: Hello?
Me: I’m trapped at the exit fare machine.
Rae: What?
Me: Help meeeee. I’m traaapped….
Rae: What? I was wondering where you are.
Me: It only takes ones and fives and I’m trapped and my card won’t work and I’m trapped and I’m scared and pleaaaase. Heeeelp me!
Rae: *sighs.* I’ll be down in a few.
I sit there, waiting miserably at the machine. I spot my friend and run over, near tears. She loans me a few dollars so I can recharge my card. I make my way over and stick in my card. It brings up a number. 2 dollars and 20 cents. Okay. I stick in a dollar, and it drops a dollar.
I smash the cancel button before my loaned money can be eaten by the machine and return to Rae.
Me: It doesn’t work. It went down a dollar.
Rae: Was there a negative sign?
Me: No, there wasn’t!
Rae: Are you sure?
Me: Positive.
Rae: Go check.
Me: Okay…
I go back, and sure enough, no negative sign. Finally, I looked at Rae, on the other side of the gate, while I’m still trapped. I’m sitting here, nearly sobbing in fear, terrified I’ll be trapped in the subway forever because I can’t get out. I’d have to live with the creepy hobo people, armed only with ten dollars cash. I’d die out there.
The station watcher looks at me, and finally decides to step in.
Him: What’s the matter?
Me: I have this station pass thingy because I’m a student and it lets me go anywhere in DC except it’s not working and it’s still December so it should work, but it’s not and I’m going to be trapped with the Metro homeless people…
Him: You know it only works in DC, right?
Me: *sniffling.* Yeah…
Him: And this isn’t a DC stop…?
Me: Wait, what? Why did nobody tell me this? Since when was this a Maryland stop?
Rae: When you crossed the Maryland border…?
Me: Oh…I..can’t get through. *sniffles again and begins to put on “Sad-Puppy-Panic-Now-The-World-Is-Ending- look.*
Him: Okay…just, go through here. Okay? Have a good one.
Me: Thanks, mister!
The rest of the trip was rather uneventful. I did however learn that my mother is right: When you freak out and start crying, a guy will usually do whatever you want just to get you to be quiet.
Introducing French Dragon. He's a dragon. With a beret. That makes him French. Get it? Anyways, today we'd like to tell you all something very important about the French language.
French isn't that bad. Honestly isn't. Sure, some of the words are weird. And the accent is nasal-y and I can't speak French to save my life...But they have redeeming qualities.
Today, we're going to discuss fishes. The French word for fish is 'poisson'. Let us introduce our fish:
See? He's a very good fish. All blue, and he won't even kill you! He's not a stalker fish! He's totally fine being cooked up and ingested for your holiday trout, your Sunday salmon or your Friday fish tacos. He probably won't kill you, unless you eat a spiky fish and pierce your throat. That would be cause for an issue.
But let's introduce another factor...Here we have poison, which in French is...'poison'. Yeah. Same as English, except with that whole accent thing.
Ta-da. A bottle of poison, which doesn't like being ingested. Your insides will wither and die. They will explode with sheer poison power. They will die in a fire. Notice, however, that the only thing seperating these two is an s.
Poisson: Fish that you nom nom nom. Poison: Poison, that, when nom nom nom'd, will kill you.
It is called a microphone, right? Dammit, now I'm thinking of microwaves...and telephones. Dammit. This really wasn't how I planned to start this.
Let's try that again, shall we?
I'm Azunara. No, that's not my birth name, but the internet is a scary place and frankly I'd rather remain innocent and not have creepy hobo-stalkers find my name, track me down, and kill me in my sleep. I do love living. So yeah. Azu.
Chances are, you're sitting here, I'm sitting here, and both of us are wondering how the hell you got here. Trust me, I'm not quite sure myself. You probably are either one of those creepy hobo-stalkers who still found me, despite my best efforts to keep them away. I will get out the Mace, understood, creepy hobos? MACE. Anyways, if you're not a creepy hobo stalker, I probably know you from somewhere. Real life. Maybe you're a friend. Maybe we both stalk the same forums. Or maybe, just maybe, you found this on your own, and I have become famous.
Nah.
Anyways, just a nice introductory post for you. I'll even tell you a bit about myself! Ready? Okay.
I have ADHD, so chances are these are going to pretty damn random posts. I like dragons, and kitties, and reading, and writing. I enjoy spending my days away from people (They're rather annoying) unless they decide to be funny. I am usually wearing a hat. And a coat. Even indoors.
I do love hats and coats. So warm. They're like security blankets, except you get less weird looks! Wait, no...Still get weird looks. Scratch that.
