I slept wrongly and my neck is doing this incomprehensible and painful thing, but only at random intervals. What the heck, neck?

Stuff from the internet! Feel free to ooh and aah.
This is pretty much exactly what I do whenever I find a puddle too.
The trailer for How to Train Your Dragon, which seemingly has nothing to do with the book upon which it’s supposed to be based. Nevertheless, I think it looks nifty. So sue me.
15 reasons why Mr. Rogers is fantastic. I loved that show! I was especially fond of the Neighborhood of Make-Believe, oh yes.
A Common Nomenclature for Lego Families. Fascinating, and very true. My brother and I would build huge Lego cities (which we would then destroy in creative ways…once we built Atlantis and then flooded it in the bathtub), and we had a flawless system of communication. Sadly I’ve forgotten our terminology for most Lego pieces, now.
Newsicles, a chunk of witty goodness co-authored by two of my esteemed colleagues in the data conversion business. We lead thrilling lives, boy howdy.

Horrifying realization! I was working on an art project for a friend, and as I was drawing my pencil slipped. The first thought to cross my mind was “Ctrl + Z”. *headdesk* What has this job done to me??

I’ve been doing remarkably little reading (for me) lately. Anna Karenina (look, see, I’m trying to actually be mindful of proper italicization here…I realized that for the sake of blogging speed I’ve been sacrificing quotation marks and italics and whatnot, which is rather shameful) is pretty slow going. I’m around 450 pages in, which means that Tolstoy is just warming up, though. I am still prepared to be amazed. AMAZE ME, MUSCOVITES. Thus far, I must admit, Anna is mostly just irritating, and I don’t really see that changing. I’m already sort of looking forward to that whole throwing-herself-in-front-of-a-train bit. (Oops, spoilers.)

Oh, oh! I went to the renaissance festival last weekend, and it was pretty great! Going alone is a very different experience from going with my usual entourage of like-minded folk. On the one hand, there’s no one with whom to share the day, but on the other hand, people are far more inclined to strike up conversations with you.

At various intervals, little boys bounded up and just began chatting:
“Are you a bow and arrow person?” “Well yes, I guess I am.”
“Is that a real bow?” “Yes, it is.”
While watching a swordfighting tournament: “I bet you could just shoot that guy from here.” “Hmm. I bet I could.”

Then a lot of people commented on my hair or my costume, which was sweet. One lady was German (maybe?) and she was like, “My English is not good, but I want to say your hair is beautiful. Is all real?” I assured her that it was, and we chatted about the falcons (we were in front of the falconry booth) and she said her name was Georgia, I think. Then some girl literally ran after me and was like, “Hi, I hope this isn’t weird, but my name is Lana, and I just want to see your hair.” We talked quite a bit, actually, and she introduced me to a bunch of her friends, which was kinda cool and kind of awkward simultaneously because she dragged them all up from various locations to do so and they were a bit baffled by the whole thing. Awkward introductions! Always good times.

Also, I ate a turkey leg (or, well, part of it…I always forget that I don’t actually really like renn fair turkey legs) and did some archery (first time since I moved to Florida! It was…less than impressive) and talked to several people about my bow. Clearly, the bow was a big hit. I thought about bringing the sword too, but then it just looks like I’m trying to start a war, and it has a back scabbard anyway so it gets hard to manage with the quiver and the bow and the long hair and whatnot.

In the latest installment of The Continuing Saga of Stephanie’s Weird Encounters with Homeless People, Greg (Craig?) asked me for my phone number again. This time the light did not turn conveniently green just then, so I sweetly (but firmly!) told him that I don’t give my phone number out. Really, darling, it would never work between us. o_0 At the park the other day, some girl (not homeless this time!…I don’t think.) asked me to watch her stuff while she went and got her car from…somewhere. This really didn’t make sense, since her stuff consisted of only a purse and a notebook, which she could have easily carried with her, but I said ok. Then I got to thinking, wait a second, Stephanie. There are drugs in this fancy purse (Coach!), aren’t there, and the police are on her tail, so she dumped them with me and then took off, and you’re going to be arrested for possession of illegal substances!, and who will bail you out, hmm? Fortunately, she came back and got her stuff before that happened, though the whole thing still made no sense because she still didn’t have her car, and she walked off across the park to another picnic table and was still there when I left.

I do not understand Floridians.

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