Baileigh Solis (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
deep_red_bells) wrote2008-05-11 01:27 am
deep_red_bells) wrote2008-05-11 01:27 am
Entry tags:
Against boredom even the gods contend in vain (locked to <lj site="livejournal.com" user="elementof_
An airport bathroom’s lighting, Baileigh had decided, would not do even the likes of Catherine Zeta Jones any favors. It would turn even someone as va-va-voom gorgeous as her a delicately putrid shade of yellow and blue and green at the same time and somehow reveal every flaw and imperfection on every layer of skin right down to the dermis.
It just didn’t seem possible for her to look that pale and waxy, not with the Nevada sun keeping her skin a perpetual dusky bronze. It was both fascinating and revolting, and wow, had she reached a new and impressively pathetic level of 'flighty, ditzy and easily amused'.
Well, she was nervous, which lead to babbling, even if it was internal babbling. She was also extremely irritated that she’d stepped in gum in the parking lot and only just realized it about fifteen minutes before Julian’s plane was supposed to land. Supposed to land being the operative words, since it seemed those little arrival time numbers they threw up on the big board were really just an elaborate game of Bingo and no one had caught on to the joke yet. Whoever was behind that needed to be shot (and people that chewed gun also needed to be shot--not lethally, just in the arm or leg, but still: shot) because even after she got the mess scraped off the sole of her Marc Eckos and made a mad dash back to the gate, the now five minutes turned into thirty, then forty, then forty five, and she being so very lacking in the forward thinking department had not even brought a damned book. Sending goofy text messages to Annie and quietly mocking other people’s questionable fashion sense only entertained for so long, and the one person she’d tried to strike up a conversation with apparently only spoke Caveman Grunt. It was a bit like trying to talk to Callahan, only even less stimulating.
All things considered, marveling at her corpse-like appearance in the bathroom mirror had been so much more fun. And since the chances of finding a nun to discuss how The Walrus and the Carpenter had made her believe all religion was evil were slim to none, she supposed she’d just…keep sitting here and keep picking invisible lint off of her capris until the damned plane landed.
God, she hated being bored...but hey, at least she wasn't really nervous anymore.
...Yeah, not a fair trade.
It just didn’t seem possible for her to look that pale and waxy, not with the Nevada sun keeping her skin a perpetual dusky bronze. It was both fascinating and revolting, and wow, had she reached a new and impressively pathetic level of 'flighty, ditzy and easily amused'.
Well, she was nervous, which lead to babbling, even if it was internal babbling. She was also extremely irritated that she’d stepped in gum in the parking lot and only just realized it about fifteen minutes before Julian’s plane was supposed to land. Supposed to land being the operative words, since it seemed those little arrival time numbers they threw up on the big board were really just an elaborate game of Bingo and no one had caught on to the joke yet. Whoever was behind that needed to be shot (and people that chewed gun also needed to be shot--not lethally, just in the arm or leg, but still: shot) because even after she got the mess scraped off the sole of her Marc Eckos and made a mad dash back to the gate, the now five minutes turned into thirty, then forty, then forty five, and she being so very lacking in the forward thinking department had not even brought a damned book. Sending goofy text messages to Annie and quietly mocking other people’s questionable fashion sense only entertained for so long, and the one person she’d tried to strike up a conversation with apparently only spoke Caveman Grunt. It was a bit like trying to talk to Callahan, only even less stimulating.
All things considered, marveling at her corpse-like appearance in the bathroom mirror had been so much more fun. And since the chances of finding a nun to discuss how The Walrus and the Carpenter had made her believe all religion was evil were slim to none, she supposed she’d just…keep sitting here and keep picking invisible lint off of her capris until the damned plane landed.
God, she hated being bored...but hey, at least she wasn't really nervous anymore.
...Yeah, not a fair trade.