I saw a priest today dressed in Ash Wednesday attire. I scraemed "HIDE ME" and ran away.

Kat, Shea, me (obviously) and Adam. We celebrated Mardi Gras w/ Cajun food in Woodley minus the typical alcoholism accompanied with Fat Tuesday New Orleans style.

So I realized that most of my Yorkers have never seen pictures of the people down here who kick ass. Oh you've heard the stories, read the quotes, pondered our sanity, but now you have some pictures to go w/my rants. Clearly this is not the entirity of what I have dubbed "The DC Crew" but it's a start. I'll start posting pics more often in here now since I got the god awful "HELLO" thing to work. *mutters*

Our mini "Mardi Gras" celebration was a great deal of fun. It was great to eat in a place with a good atmosphere, service and food again. Oh edible food, how I have missed thee. After getting home Kat and I decided to walk back while the guy's took the bus. Ya wimps.

Oh...had a lovely conversation with my mother today after stats (yes, after stats. When my brain was already fried past the point of repair..I wasted 20 minutes of my life listening to my mom rant about safety). Let's just say I am now playing an odd combination of Pete Yorn and Green Day to soothe my ailing soul. Now many of you think that I hate my mom. I don't. I love her dearly. She just FRUSTRATES me to high hell. Yes, high hell, where the demons run around with bloodshot eyes and the Lord of the Flies is the only one who's allowed to do acid. Anyways...back to the point...my major issue with my mom is the fact that all my life she basically let me do my own thing. When I was younger and needed the coddling, the constant attention she didn't give it to me. She was by no means a bad mother, she was great in fact, but she encouraged me to be independent, she didn't indulge my every whim. NOW, when I'm 19, independent and pretty much self-sufficient she wants to coddle me, tuck me into bed and tell me NICE bedtime stories rather then the ever demented Ducky Story. Now, when I don't need it, she's trying to baby me the way she never did when I was younger. Excuse me while I run screaming into the night. Oh wait, then she'd chase after me with a coat saying "aren't you cold?!" or "don't you think you're showing too much skin?!" Excuse me while I go stab myself in the eye with my cell phone antenna (oh, that's yet another angst but that shall wait for another day).