I just finished Life of Pi. It started out a fabulous story, interesting and believable (to a certain extent) and fanciful, and having just finished it, I am immensely depressed. Ho-hum.
I'm having peppermint tea for lunch because I am sick. I don't know if I'm really sick of if it's just post-nasal drip-iness, but I don't feel well. I have my final in my English class tonight, and there is too much snot in my brain to think clearly about the effects of grotesque photographs and the ethics and responsibilities of photojournalism. Yuck.
Aaron and I had a fabulous evening last night. We took each other out to dinner and gorged ourselves on nicoise salad, spinach dip with fried pita points, ribs, flat-iron steak, mashed potatoes that were one part potato, one part butter, and hard cider -- all for only $20! I like having connections in the food industry, as I am a big fan of food.
Also, I've just recently found out that my boyfriend is a closet Guns n Roses freak. I am not ashamed, but I feel like there should be some sort of support group for these things, considering how far the obsession can go. How many times can you watch a Behind the Story without feeling as though you already know everything there is to know? The Tootsie Pop question of the era.
I'm achey. Is it sleepy time yet?
And is it funny that I really enjoy doing things like reading, typing, writing, when it's really difficult to do them, like when I have to blow my nose every thirty seconds and my vision is blurry? Or is that just weird?
one year ago today: nothin. two years ago today: "i will always remember that a desert has sand and a dessert is sweet because with dessert, you always want more and so there's another 's'. yay first grade. and "hoooo boy. i'm so independent it hurts. bite me, real world." three years ago today: "Why does all the bad shit have to happen when I'm PMSing?"