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Yeah. Me, too. Joy.
* Anecdote at University.
Characters: Me and Tommaso, a "colleague" of mine.
Plot: I'm sitting right behind him. I'm bored, so I start poking him on the back with a pen. He tells me (good-naturedly) to stop, I obviously don't. I hear the sound of tearing paper; shortly after that, he starts throwing little balls of paper back at me. I throw them back. He's good at choosing moments when the professor is turned, I'm a little less careful about that, plus I can't stop giggling. A longish pause, then he throws a whole handful of them. I lose it, and I have to lower my head in order to be not too obvious about it.
The funny part is that right after the class I go with a couple of other girls in the professor's study, because we had to ask him about some exercises we'd done. We ask, he answers, then he looks at me, smiles and says that he had found rather cheerful, that day. You know peppers? I get as red as one, and chalk it up to being tired or something. While still giggling, of course.
... *sigh* I'm (we're) such a five years old at heart.
If you're seeing this and haven't done, chances are I'd like to read it. So, you're tagged, if you want. :P
- Twenty Things About Me.
- I had totally forgotten about the European Championship of Basketball. I blame it on the pub. I was about to go into the shower, Friday evening, when I heard the telly in the kitchen say "Basile", so I put two and two together and I flew in the kitchen as I was.
- In case you couldn't tell, I love (watching) basket.
- People speaking while I'm watching movies pisses me off. People speaking while there's a basket match on makes them a perfect target for my nerves. Take my advice, don't do that. That is, unless you fancy having a blood-thirsty rabid monkey hanging from your throat. Your loss.
- All right, make #2 "I am a little obsessed over" etc etc etc.
- Yeah, you can erase the "a little" part. That was just for form's sake.
- There are two things that make me swear like a sailor: drawing, and *drumroll* basketball matches.
- I stop being unpredictable after about 30 seconds of talking with me. You - how could I put this - realize soon enough that there are certain themes I tend to go back to. Like, for instance, basket. Especially if there's a championship on. Or
slashR/S. That's another preponderant theme in my thoughts. Would you have ever told? - What with the Italian championship being entirely on satellite now, that's my first chance to watch basketball in a year. I blame my obsession also on this.
- In a valiant effort of changing subject, I could say that if I'm particularly nervous I stumble a lot. On words, of course (and I hatehatehate that, it makes me so - bare, in ways I don't like at all), but on my feet as well. I found that the latter happens also when I change environment. Well, what can I say - dogs pee, I trip. To each their own. At least usually (usually) I don't fall.
- Oh, and I can move my ears. You know Warhol's "15-min-celebrity"? It granted me that at 9 years old. Yeah, what a way to waste it.
- I talk a lot. What? That's the "20 things about me" meme, not the "20 things you don't know about me" one. Oh, and I also have big problems with keeping up the same train of thought for more than five minutes. My thoughts tend to stray in all directions possible to human kind.
- Obviety for obviety, I could also say that
Basile is one yummy guyI'm female, Italian, 22 y.o., I have monkeys in myheadicons, and if I'm high enough (on coffee, usually) I enjoy provoking/annoying my friends. (well, those I know won't get too mad at me.) One of my favorite methods is poking them continuously, until they turn and start tickling me. * (Unfair. I'm too weak when it comes to that. :P) Also, speaking about monkeys (I know that was five minutes ago, but haven't you got an inkling of how my mind doesn't worksby now?), in (Italian) slang, in my zone at least, "having a monkey" means roughly "experiencing a very dumb moment". "Having a table" has the same meaning. Therefore, if you have a monkey dancing on a table, there's no much hope left for you. - I can spend hours and hours talking about things of, like, no interest to anyone. Not even to me.
- I'm hardly ever serious, not if I can help it. See, I thought of ways to expound the matter for the last five minutes and I couldn't come up with anything. I only get truly serious about once every two-three months, it lasts half a day and then I'm as stupid as ever.
- I'm at point fifteen and I already don't know what to say. Hm, I could start talking about my childhood Like, that I was so lazy already in my mum's belly that they had to drag me out with a cupping-glass. God's truth, I swear. (Hehe - Dad still laughs on how much I resembled E.T., in my first days of life. :P Of course, he laughs now, since he'd been white as a sheet during all the delivery. FYI, Mum entered the hospital at about 7 a.m., and I came out at about 7 p.m.. Told you I was lazy already back then...) Or that when I was little (not older than six years, maybe) I incidentally brought down a tree without getting even a scratch. (You might have heard this already. I confess I'm rather fond of it.) Well, I've always been clumsy as hell, and equally lucky.
- Sometimes I wish very intensely I was someone else. That being slightly impossible, I settle for wishing (still Very Intensely) I was somewhere else.
- I've always thought "I'd love to learn playing drums someday", but I've often daydreamed about being a singer in a rock band. Shouting until your throat is hoarse, without worrying about anything. That's bound to be so awfully liberating. :D Too bad I haven't the right voice for that. :P
- I think I am one of the 'one in a billion' persons who go to a disco to actually dance, and not just to pull. Oh, the shitty music I can dance to. There are some songs you wouldn't catch me dead listening to for personal entertainment, but that are much fun to dance to. (songs you can't take seating down indeed.) Then there are the songs you just can't take at all, and for those there's no remedy.
- I've never really thought "seriously" about drawing. You know, like something to live on. Make a profession out of it. I did entertain the thought of attending an art school or something, but just like I have entertained playing drums or becoming an astronaut. (I have. I doubt I was older than 12, but I have.) Lately I've started thinking about that. Not that I'm going to leave the uni, that's out of the question, I'm three years late for that. And usually these doubts last just until I take a look at one of my things. :P
- I really, really, really don't know what to say. Hm. Er. Mah. Is there anything you want to know?
* Anecdote at University.
Characters: Me and Tommaso, a "colleague" of mine.
Plot: I'm sitting right behind him. I'm bored, so I start poking him on the back with a pen. He tells me (good-naturedly) to stop, I obviously don't. I hear the sound of tearing paper; shortly after that, he starts throwing little balls of paper back at me. I throw them back. He's good at choosing moments when the professor is turned, I'm a little less careful about that, plus I can't stop giggling. A longish pause, then he throws a whole handful of them. I lose it, and I have to lower my head in order to be not too obvious about it.
The funny part is that right after the class I go with a couple of other girls in the professor's study, because we had to ask him about some exercises we'd done. We ask, he answers, then he looks at me, smiles and says that he had found rather cheerful, that day. You know peppers? I get as red as one, and chalk it up to being tired or something. While still giggling, of course.
... *sigh* I'm (we're) such a five years old at heart.
If you're seeing this and haven't done, chances are I'd like to read it. So, you're tagged, if you want. :P
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Also, I think we need baby and child Bruni pictures. Because those must be the cutest ever. EVER.
If we ever met, we'd poke each other to death. :P I LOVE POKING PEOPLE! It's so much fun. XD
MWAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!
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Well, I was.
The small tree that was behind the swing, not so much.
(A small hollow where he once was remained on on the ground for ages after that. I used to look at it and think "Hmmm, I think I should feel guilty about this.")
...now I just have to come there, as soon as possible. :D (which is in ten years or so.)
MWAH!
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...now I just have to come there, as soon as possible. :D (which is in ten years or so.)
Or the mountain could come to Mohammad. ;) (You know that if I'm ever in the vicinity of Italy, I AM stalking you, right?)
MWAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!
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Hahahaha! :D Can I presume to know some side of your mum's personality from that? :D :D :D
Oh, that makes me think of a tv show where they, predictably, show all those self-made short films with this kind of domestic incidents. :D Me and dad laugh at that like you have no idea, but mum doesn't. And she's the one I've taken after, in the laughing-my-head-off department.
You won't be able to. Or rather, you will only if I won't realize you're stalking me. Because if I do I'm totally stalking you back. :D
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10. WOW.
14. 16. & 18. ME TOO.
This comment brought to you by the fact I'm going home in five minutes. ♥
doitdoitdoitdoitdoitdoit. Please?
That was what my classmates said too, right in between "I don't believe it", and "All right. *shrugs and turns*". :D
Tee hee hee! You 18 too? I love you that bit more. :D :D :D (Any place for dancing near Stolly's?)
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But dancing at the other end of the bar's pretty safe.
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Yeah, hte other side will have to do. Even if, some adrenaline, every once in a while...
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A) Do you have any opinions on NBA/American basket?
B) Needing examples of shitty music you can dance to.
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A) Nope. None. Never seen it, and therefore never read anything on it either. It doesn't make much sense, if I don't know what they're talking about. :/
B) Let me thiiiink... Shakira's La Tortura. Beyonce's two hits of a couple of summers ago. Some song whose title I don't remember that goes "don't you wish your girlfriend was (insert random compliment here) like me". "La camisa negra" awfully leads me to dance, although I hate the title (even if I'm told the black shirt is only due to a love delusion. I hope it is). Then... hm. Can't think of much else.
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No Gwen Stefani? She bitchin.
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perhps the fact that it is terrible is why you love it.
You have a point there. Or maybe it's just the fact that, if the base uses more than four notes (therefore, house music is out), and is not terribly slow, I dance to it.
Hmm, she not played much here. Save for her song with Eve. That was fun to dance to.