Eavesdropping in upper-middle-class family-friendly chain restaurants.

Two-year-old boy, being led to a table by his grandma: Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!

(I don't make this stuff up. I just report on it.)

Mono means lots of movie time.

Guess what was on TV yesterday?



One of the more aesthetically interesting films Disney's made recently. Now all they have to do is put Atlantis on and I'll be happy.

Ugh.

So, after all the blood tests and throat swabs and misprescribed antibiotics and night sweats and mysterious swollen glands and dragging myself to class and then dragging myself to the clinic and lazing around in bed not doing anything but feeling sorry for myself...

I have the mononucleosis.

WHYYY.




My mom came up to make me chicken soup and take care of me, but the doctor I've been seeing said it would be a good idea for me to go home for a while to recover, so that's where I am now. And it's the first week of class, to boot. I feel unlucky.

Blah.

I am sick. It may be the swine flu. Or the bird flu. Snake flu. Mailbox flu. Accountant flu. Whatever the popular flu is these days.













W.
Photographer: Mario Sorrenti.

Picked this magazine up at the bookstore last week. After looking through it, I had to have these pictures. They are now pasted up on my bedroom wall. I know the article said she is supposed to be a bird-girl, but she reminds me of feathery little forest moths instead.

Everything aches. Pout.

All work and no play...

I have been very busy this week being terribly productive.

I've gotten myself all moved into the dormpartment... which is actually not a bad floorplan, but the furniture and cabinets are a bit old and I fear I'll be battling mould for the next 8 months. No sign yet of my supposed roommate, but whenever I step out into the hallway, it usually smells like some sort of deliciousness, so there must be someone around who likes to cook.

Also, there's a new business venture on the horizon: Etsy finally seduced me with it's feminine wiles and efficient layout. More on that later. You'll just have to wait in suspense.

I do believe that I will go make some baked potato fries in my tiny oven. I'll have to take a picture of this thing later. Seriously, it's about THE most adorable oven I've ever seen.

Speaking of pictures, my dad wanted the D60 back, so now I'm left to photographically limping along with my crappy little Kodak. Woe.

Eavesdropping in the union food court.

College guy, to the girl he's sitting with: You know, eventually I'm going to have to break it off with my vagina, man.

(Then I guess the girl shushed him, because he commented on how it was okay, no one was paying attention. Except for me.)