September 24th, 2011

Rainbow || Rainbow northern lights.

(no subject)

Sometimes I get these incredible (and incredibly strange) urges to sit down and read a grammar book. I usually discover these urges at odd times, like 4.04 in the morning, when I see the word "gerund" somewhere and shiver in anticipation. I feel that other responses are probably more suited to gerunds.

Now I'm hearing a snippet from my old English teacher: "Gerunds can be indirect objects..." Why ever am I...?

I don't know what I'm talking about. I think I'm drunk off buffalo chicken. (If in my world I may be stimulated to shivers by the idea of a gerund, I may also become intoxicated by consumption of spicy, tangy poultry: get your logic out of my Wonderland.)

Hmm. Realised I don't actually know the grammar of intoxication. Become intoxicated by? Become intoxicated from? Be intoxicated by? Be intoxicated from? Or with? Or grow intoxicated by/with/from, despite how much that makes me think of a pissed plant? Well, whatever grammar book I sit down to read must have a chapter on How To Confess One's State of (In)Sobriety. Oh, I wonder if I'd have to pick US or UK--US never seems quite as comfortable with "one"... Perhaps it should include appropriate (or not-so) vernacular of the drinking culture; I've always heard slang is actually a useful tool, at least for English Second Language students...

I'm totally joking. I've really lost the plot here. It's now quarter past four and my brain isn't making sense, least of all the grammatical sort.

Today we dropped my brother off at the airport. He was a bit of a prick, but I gave him a hug and sent him on his way through security anyway, right before the man working security growled and barked at me as if I were the mangy mutt. Sour security guards are always a pleasure.

Earlier my brain told me it was in for an all-nighter of cleaning, television of writing; now I'm sensing that isn't so. It's a bit of a relief, I suppose, since I thought I would be too distraught to sleep. I'm certainly far from happy and comfortable, but I'm also not fending off tears, so sleep may be possible.

I was awake through Dweeb's flight, anyway, and by now he's in the safe company of my uncle. On top of thinking about my brother, I don't think I could have put up with sleeping and waking to dreams of travelling with him; I wanted to stay awake so my body and brain would know that I was not on the plane with my brother.

It was strange staying on this side of the security gate. I also didn't know that international departures is just the floor above arrivals--funny the things a person can learn by staying. Such a familiar airport, and it always reminds me of winter somehow. Well, anyway, I'm here now--still here now--and I've made quite a mess of my post-Rowe Stateside life, so I'll have to see if I can fix that up a bit.

I'm not going to read through this so I can avoid seeing just how badly I do need to read through a grammar book! Off to bed with me, I guess, here in my Stateside bed in my Stateside room with my Stateside pug and his bad breath... Alright. I'll manage. Tomorrow I can prepare my room for fort building.