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Oct. 7th, 2007 11:12 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
seiberwingI'm up in New York again, this time without backup. Flight up was uneventful, although I did get the terminal with the aerial vegetables again. Considering my parents did everything but pin my address to my jacket, I wasn't that surprised.
Upon my arrival, Granma promptly fed me and then took me out to a nail salon. My fingernails are now lilac and filed down mostly to the point of useless and my toenails are now a ghastly shade of grape popsicle purple because the color on the bottle never quite matches up to reality. Still, it seemed to make her happy so I went along with it.
Of course, there was then the obligatory showing me off to her friends like a little pet poodle the way she's done since I was old enough to be more than a sonagram. It's a grandparent thing, I think, and I don't really mind it as long as it's not too long and I don't have to sit through an hour of them talking about the most insignificant things ever (omfg I don't care that your super was rude to you, send him a nasty letter and change the subject because you've been talking about the man all damn evening!) and then turning right around and talking about each other being their backs when they go off to the bathroom. It's like high school, I swear.
Oh well. Got in another page of my paper, I suppose that's something.
Upon my arrival, Granma promptly fed me and then took me out to a nail salon. My fingernails are now lilac and filed down mostly to the point of useless and my toenails are now a ghastly shade of grape popsicle purple because the color on the bottle never quite matches up to reality. Still, it seemed to make her happy so I went along with it.
Of course, there was then the obligatory showing me off to her friends like a little pet poodle the way she's done since I was old enough to be more than a sonagram. It's a grandparent thing, I think, and I don't really mind it as long as it's not too long and I don't have to sit through an hour of them talking about the most insignificant things ever (omfg I don't care that your super was rude to you, send him a nasty letter and change the subject because you've been talking about the man all damn evening!) and then turning right around and talking about each other being their backs when they go off to the bathroom. It's like high school, I swear.
Oh well. Got in another page of my paper, I suppose that's something.
