(Re: the snacky Birthday Essay: that was all hugsnkisses_'s masterminding. But I was more than happy to join the bandwagon. :)
Today's horoscope: "No one writes a bestseller right away. So stop being so hard on yourself!" God, my horoscopes are freaky. Seriously, I don't remember ever checking off a list of interests or activities for them to write weirdly individualized predictions about.
Oh--someone mentioned Debbie Gibson in the comments of the CD-ripping entry, so of course I had to dig out my greatest hits CD (I have tons of greatest hits CDs, mostly because I had the original albums on cassette and was NOT going to buy them all over again. Except that... a lot of times, I did anyway. Shut up) because I need to have "Only in My Dreams" on my computer, yis, and then I noticed a credit at the bottom of the back cover: "Compilation Producer: Woody Firm." Seriously? That's not a joke?
Anyway. Have helped Sister Girl study for her Culinard midterm, which is about sauces and stock and vegetable-cutting. Meanwhile, that five-page paper for Milton is due tomorrow, and ick. I am not in the paper-writing mood (as opposed to those days I just leap out of bed and crow, "What can I footnote today?!").
Went Christmas shopping yesterday, and it's official: stores are now waiting until the red-hot stroke of midnight on Halloween to put up the flocked pine wreaths and colored glass balls, but not a second longer. Now, my mother has an excuse for buying Christmas presents in August, because she's got not one but two kids with mid-December birthdays. Thus, I was an important element of the shopping expedition yesterday, as I had to tell her what I wanted. Now, before you bemoan the lack of surprise involved in my gifts, you have to remember two things. One is that my mother cannot remember the name of anything longer than two seconds. You can actually hear the information whistling in one ear and out the other, so I have to go with her to pick things out, because you send her to get Roxette (shut up, I was twelve) and she comes back with Rockapella, but not until she's spent fifteen minutes insisting to a store clerk that she wants something called "Rock Out" (this actually happened). And my mother was only 25 when she had me, so it's not like I have elderly parents or anything. The second thing is that my memory is much, much better than hers--so much better that I won't forget what we bought until at least, say, a week afterwards. Therefore, If you buy things early enough, I'll be totally surprised on Christmas morning. Imagine the guy from Memento as two women shopping for Christmas presents, and you've pretty much got the idea.
What all of this is a lead-up to is the fact that I am a jewelry fiend. ( Collapse )
Anyway. I need to get on with my
Sender: Lagina Clifton
Subject: Tarina, I'd like to get to the point where I can be just as mediocre as a man
ETA: I opened the email, but it was blank. I get crap like that all the time. It's kinda spooky.