I'm home alone right now. Back in my room, on my bed, listening to Jose Gonzales and Coldplay (not at the same time, that's just silly). Someone just knocked on the front door. I ignored it. 10 seconds later they tried walking it. HA! I locked the door. I'm tired of people walking in to a house that's not theirs. So rude. But it's accepted here. There are some people who don't even knock, they just walk in like they OWN THE PLACE! Psh. Please, I don't even own the place. But I do live here, I do own a key to that front door, thus only I am allowed to walk in without knocking. Oh, and my roommates.
Oh, I think the point of writing this was feeling funny about ignoring the knock at the door and hiding out in my room. I do this more often than a normal person, I think. But the person knocking is never knocking to come and see me, thus I feel very little inclination to rise off my 35 year old mattress, saturated with enough dust, dead skin, hair and who knows what else (shudder) to kill an elephant--Or just give me the heedbadeejeebies. No wonder I have so few friends. (Because of not answering the door, not the bed.) Eh. I've got my computer, I've got music, and I've got a cell phone if I really want to communicate with people.
The only problem with ignoring the knocks is now I have to wait about 15 minutes before going out to my kitchen because I have to turn on the light. That light, for way too many, says, "Come and sit awkwardly in the kitchen, wasting Elizabeth's time and eating her cookies!" You'd think they wouldn't come back after all the dirty looks I give them and especially after I knifed that one kid. ...
p.s. I got a letter from Jacob today. 35 pictures. 30 of them are just of his face, making different faces. If only he had sent profile shots too, then I could sculpt a bust of him out of my extra block of marble.