This is what happens when you were brought up by parents who are hoarders, and as a result keep thinking: “Well, this box could come in handy, I shouldn’t throw it out.” This is the pile I managed to make when I went through my (very small, one-bedroom) apartment (that I have been in for only 6 months) looking for all the boxes I had stashed in various corners and cupboards. I blame genetics.
Esscuse me… I say esscuse me miss… do you have any spare change? I say esscuse me…
Time keeps doing its thing, and somehow I only have a couple of weeks left working here. One of the things I won’t miss about living in this area, are the Old Town Alexandria panhandlers (called panhandlers rather than beggars because we’re in America, I’m not sure why). From the tall scary dude; the old guy who is always walking along waving his crutches around; to the short gap-toothed lady who has been ‘pregnant’ for a couple of years now (should I perhaps tell her she’s just fat?), and all the others. I’m sick of all of them, and their incessant requests for my money.
One of the good things about the rainy weekend was spending time at the Pancake House outside of Fayettvile, with it’s ‘truck-stop like atmosphere’. When you asked for pancakes, you got 3 enormous dinner plate sized pancakes, covered in butter, and as much whipped cream and maple syrup as you could possibly want (me, I didn’t want any, and in fact I ended up getting a waffle instead, which was also enormous).
I have decided that Walmart is a scary scary place though. Apart from all of the fat Americans running around, I’m having trouble reconciling myself to the fact that there are crossbows and guns on display just next to the manchester.
West Virginia has proven to be rather wet of late, with three of the last four weekends involving far too much rain. And it’s unlikely to let up any time soon, as Hurricane Katrina will be headed that way after doing its best on New Orleans (of course, it won’t be a hurricane any more, just a patch of nasty weather).
It stopped raining for about 46 minutes* over the weekend. Long enough to set up a slackline in the campground, and fall off it a few times.
In other news, the fabric on my thermarest has started bubbling, so when I inflate it, it now looks like it has a tumour. I didn’t like to mention anything infront of it, but I think perhaps its days are numbered. On the plus side, I now own down booties (and I hadn’t realised I could construct a sentence using the letters ‘wno’ so many times).
* Time quoted may be an exaggeration