7: starfish & coffee

I actually hung out at Borders on Friday night. I was amazed at the amount of makeup some women were wearing. Who wears foundation and concealer when all you’re doing is reading Italian Vogue by yourself? I suppose that bookstores are really cruisey, but it’s hard to concentrate on the latest issue of “The Face” when the woman standing next to you is reading out loud and wearing CK One Designer Imposter body fragrance.

I bought a pile of books, one of which was “A Massive Swelling: Celebrity Re-Examined As a Grotesque, Crippling Disease and Other Cultural Revolutions”. I’m halfway through it. I would have finished it already except that I finally got around to acquiring the first two Harry Potters.

Oh my god, how could I have gone this long without reading the Harry Potter books? They’re so good — funny, wonderful characters, genuinely scary at times. Do you remember what it was like to practically run home because all you wanted to do was sit down and keep reading your book? I feel like I’m nine years old all over again, which isn’t that much of a stretch. Most of the time I feel fourteen. It actually took me about 5 minutes to shower on Sunday (it normally takes 15 minutes) because I could not bear to be parted with the book.

Yeah, it’s that good.

I got a raise yesterday. Yay. Like Biggie Smalls said, “More money, more problems.” Yeah, problems — groceries or Sigerson Morrison slingbacks? A Prada bowling bag? Seriously, though, I think this means that I actually can afford to live alone. A big “yay” to that.

I was so hoping this edition would be way funny, but I didn’t have the kind of wacky adventures that I had last week, or the week before that. I will tell you that I remembered a few things about my childhood the other day. None of the dark stuff, just some funny shit about me, my dad, and the giveaways at the District 19 Spelling Bee of 1987. I’ll leave this story for later, because it’s not much of one, anyway, but the pictures are really fun.

Oh, and I was thinking about my least favorite chore when I was little. My sister and I would always eat dinner in front of the television. Our mother wouldn’t clean up after us if we sat in front of the telly instead of at the table, so it was our job to get the fallen rice. Did you know that rice, once it dries, will stick to anything? Do you know how long it takes an eight-year old to clean a 3’x3′ square of shag carpeting of the following items:

  1. rice? (the rice in question being Jasmine rice, any brand — usually bought in 50 lb. bags and dispensed from my parents super cool Japanese mini-silo)
  2. bits of pork and/or chicken and/or Spam and/or balut? (salted duck embryo, eaten straight from the shell)
  3. whole peppercorns?
  4. lemon pips?
  5. spilled kalamansi juice? (a kalamansi is like a lime, but bitter)

It takes a long time.

I am still no longer to getting my big wooden spoons, which is probably just as well. Because I have to move in about a month, so I need to move as little as possible. Moving should be interesting because I won’t have a roommate who can drive the U-Haul. I was thinking that I could just round up all the dogs in my neighborhood and tie them into some sort of a sledding team. It would be so hip.

For those fashionists who read this, you would cry at the sight of my outfit today. I do not look all that cute today, so if you happen to see me today, just ignore the crimes I have committed.

Smooches,
the flip

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