I went shopping with preggers Michelle yesterday, and her boobs were huge. And she's a prime candidate for post-partum depression. Note to self: avoid pregnancy at all costs.
We hit the sales at the Limited and Express and I spent far too much money but ridding myself of money is cathartic, even if I am simply cluttering up my closet. So far, everyone has loved the 50s diner-ish dress I bought as an homage to Suzy (it couldn't be avoided, as it was only $20.00). Joanna's dad once said, "Money isn't yours until you spend it." But he's rich, so perhaps it doesn't apply. I think the point is that money only exists in theory, and it's the stuff that matters. Or the stuff that matters to you that matters. Humm. Either/or: Materialism, woo hoo!
During my lunch break I ran to the UPS store to drop off my camera, which has been broken for ages. Apparently, I have a year warranty on it, which expires October 5, so yay for that. The point, though, is that the UPS guy kinda sorta asked me out. I politely refused, of course, and I blame it entirely on the dress.
In other news, a certain Mr A is the absolute scum of the earth and I Hate him with the power of a thousand suns. Fuck you, buddy.
In other other news, requited crushes make me blush.
one year ago today: "now i'm the girl you have to watch out for, don't get involved with her type, she will fuck you up from the inside out." two years ago today: "i want to live in a BIG metropolis where anonymity is normal and everyone's a misfit and thus, odd is " and "my views of motherhood may have something to do with the fact that my goal in life is to avoid such.".