chasingangela: (half face)
It was Angela's 19th birthday, but she didn't have any plans to celebrate, really. She'd let herself have a caramel latte at work --- ooh, rebellion -- and was now flopped on her bed, trying to do some reading for her women's lit final.

Of course, Virginia Woolf wouldn't do her much good if she didn't make it past freshman year, but Angela wasn't letting herself think that far ahead.

[OOC: For meeeeeee, but open to anybody who remembers her birthday.]
chasingangela: (looking down)
Angela had shipped almost all of her stuff home, but it wasn't time to leave for her flight yet. The last of her luggage was stacked just inside the cabin living room. Outside the cabin, she sat on the ground near the campfire, poking at the ashes with a stick and thinking.

Main thought: Goodbyes sucked. And she had let her friends know she was leaving that day, so she had even more to look forward to.

Poke, poke, poke, she went at the fire, as if that could keep her in Fandom.

[OOC: If you think she told you she was leaving, she did.]
chasingangela: (locker)
Angela opened one eye suspiciously to the yowls of a hungry, or possibly just bored, cat. "Can't you learn to feed yourself already?" she asked Min hopefully.

Apparently not, as the tabby's answer was another yowl and an accusing stare at the empty food bowl. As she dragged herself out of bed and shook Friskies into the bowl -- and coffee into her coffee maker -- she thought about the last week.

She had taught a guy from 1057 about light switches and learned that Geoff was leaving town. She had finally met the kid across the hall, hung out in the common room, been obnoxiously cheerful at the library, gotten bitten by a monster and played Dance Dance Revolution with Nadia at Jack Harkness' birthday party, gotten candy from Blair, found our Rory's puppy has an invisible friend, had a good sandwich at Jeff, God of Biscuits -- though she still doesn't know what kind of god Jeff is -- passed notes with Rory, had a good time at the dance, and -- apparently -- worked things out with Zero after a truly nasty fight. Sort of.

And, of course, she had Marty back. The head of dark hair on the other pillow made the whole morning thing much more bearable. She leans over his hopefully-still-asleep form to kiss his cheek.

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Angela Chase

May 2015

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