Thursday, March 31, 2005

Today was a very pleasant day. I wasn't too thrilled about having to go into the office to work, but I was covering for the office manager, who was going to be out for a luncheon and a doctor appointment. (I'm sorry, we do not yet know if she is going to die.) Her sister was also out of the office today because she had to take her daughter to the state science fair in Baton Rouge. So the two problems in the office were gone. We had an awesome time together. Everyone was happy and cheerful. We helped each other with our know, as much as we could. Like, I didn't get in there with Conifer's patients and do root-planing or anything like that. It felt like we were all part of a team, you know; the way work should be. At dinner, even my dad remarked that it was very pleasant at the office today. (HINT! HINT, DAD!)

Conifer, Jam, and I had a great time cleaning up the front desk 'cause Polleranne can't seem to keep things straightened up up there. We threw out so much trash. She is the biggest packrat! The funniest find during the clean-up was that there were about 15 pads of paper in one of the pigeon holes. Well, I found a thing of paper STAPLED TOGETHER in a homemade paperpad. WHAT?! I thought that it was so funny that she took scraps of paper and fashioned them into her own pad when we get free REAL ones all the time. It was the weirdest thing I had seen in a while. Also, if we ever have a food shortage, I'm going to go hide under her desk. She has a mini-mart under there.

The most fun thing about cleaning up the front desk is that Polleranne and DD (pronounced double dee) get so pist off about it because they know where everything is in their mess, which is fine if it's their house, but this is a business, ladies! A business where people are coming in and out all the time, standing up at the front window looking down on all of the junk she has lying around. Polleranne has a trashcan to her immediate left. It seems like it would be impossible to miss it because she only has to extend her arm and drop the trash in it. BUT NO!!! There is trash ALL. AROUND. THE. BASE. OF. THE. CAN. How does she miss?! Conifer threw something away today without even looking, and guess what! SHE MADE IT! Anyway, it would be funny to hear the reaction on Monday morning, but I will be back in school. My dad always says, "You can't get in trouble for doing something that needed to be done," so they will get no sympathy from him.

This afternoon around 4:15, DD called the office, apparently in tears to hear Jam tell it, asking for my dad. When Jam told her he was gone and asked what the matter was, DD barely got out, "I'll just talk to him tomorrow," in her pitiful voice she pulls out for occasions when she needs extra attention. I can't WAIT to hear what that was all about. I went home, and my mom said she called blubbering like a big baby, but DD wouldn't tell her the diagnosis either. What a baby! I just want to thump her on the forehead really hard.

Wednesday, March 30, 2005

I got an email today offering me a chance to upgrade my tickets to Tori's concert to somewhere in the two front rows. I was supposed to send in my reasons why I should get the upgrade. My reasons are as follows:

1. I support Tori's shoe habit by buying her music multiple times over, for I must have copies for the car and for the house.
2. I have been a faithful Tori missionary, proselyting her music and merchandise to everyone I know. I have had countless baptisms.
3. At the two previous concerts I've been able to go to, I've risked sitting in the nosebleed section just so I could at least bask in the glory of the red glow around Tori's head.
4. I'm bringing my mother with me, and I really want her to have an awesome experience right there up front.

If those aren't winning reasons, I don't know what are. Of course, if Tori sings "Professional Widow" or "Icicle", my mom's ears will burn and she will label Tori a demon.

I'm going to warn you all now. Don't buy a Sony Ericsson mobile phone. They suck. The batteries for them suck. The receivers in them are way below par. In the 26 days I had that phone, I had more dropped calls than I ever had with my Nokia the previous 15 months. In fact, I've always had Nokias, and my dropped-call total for the last month is higher than my career total before Sony Ericsson. So do not get a Sony Ericsson phone. I wish someone had warned me before buying it, e.g., the dealer who sold it to me.

I went into the store yesterday, and when asked my business, I said, "I do not like this phone." The first thing out of homeboy's mouth was, "The battery-life is horrible, right? And you want to know how I knew that so quickly." I said, "Because it sucks is why! I'm sure everyone who has bought this phone has told you that. Why do you not warn us of this before buying it?" He says they are not allowed to, but I feel like if they know a product is horrible and if they get multiple returns everyday, then they should not push the product. Yes, it was relatively inexpensive, it had a great rebate on it, it has a camera, and it's a flip phone, but all of that means nothing if I can't have one extended phone conversation without the call being dropped or my battery going dead.

So all of this is to say that I ended up with a Motorola. The Cingular Nokias are too bulky. The Motorola I have is sleek, it opens smoothly and it's easily done with one finger. It's cute, the battery-life so far seems far superior to the crappy phone I had. The picture quality is way better. It's great. So I will be spending the next few days getting to know my new phone.

Tuesday, March 29, 2005

For lack of something better to write, I present a questionnaire.

Um...well, I would need a first house before I could build a second. So, assuming my first house is here in the states because I always want to have permanent residence here, I would build my second in the Provence region of France.

My jeans and my red Wanted shoes. I also have a cardigan that I'm very attached to. Oh! And my bandanas...and my lipgloss. (Yeah, I know it's not clothing!)

Well, I already wrote about this this week, didn't I? I received 4 CDs in the mail Friday: Britney's Greatest Hits, 2 Radiohead CDs, and The Diary of Alicia Keys. Buying CDs is what I do best.

What day is it?

The refrigerator, the water dispenser, and the microwave are tied for first place.

It would be the piano, of course. Anyone should be able to answer that one.

Prussian blue

Sports car, definitely. The Jaguar XKR, to be specific.

Yes, lawd.

Hop on Pop. THING THING What is that thing? Thing Sing  That thing can sing. SONG LONG A long, long song. Good-bye, Thing.  You sing too long.

Winter...a long, cold, snowy Winter.

A dot. Remember those pencils we all had in grade school where you could pull the leads out of the tip and shove them back in the end to get a new, fresh lead? I stabbed myself on the tip of the thumb with a grape-covered one in the second grade. I have a granite tattoo. It's hot!

It would be the dual superpower of flying and being able to breath under water, because those two powers obviously go together.

Sometimes, but only with one hand. That two-handed stuff is too complicated.

Øystein Rognerud. I'd tell him that he is hot as hell and that he smells so good, and then I'd tell him to make out with me. So, Øystein, if you're reading this, call me.

Cat hair and dust.

Friday, of course!

Hamburger. I've never eaten more than a California roll, spam musubi, and inarizushi. I'm waiting to go eat with someone who LOVES sushi so much that they could eat mine if I don't like it.

Audrey's new blog, Girassol.

I'm such a flowery person, but if one must give me flowers, I love yellow roses and irises.

Breakfast, in general. My grandmother's eggs benedict is my absolute favorite thing to eat.

Um...I'll describe them as boxer-briefs and a camisol.

The aforementioned eggs benedict, although, I do love some waffles with Mrs. Butterworth's and a side of bacon. Mmm...bacon...

The Looney-Toons of my childhood.

Man of the House.

Um...what job? I would say professional student if I had to put something down.

A professional know...where I go places and maybe write about it. (I would earn my keep. I'm not completely useless.)

Christmas. It offers the longest break from my "job".

Why would I be outside when I can be indoors with the central air-conditioning?

I would like to travel around the world for a really long time on my $180 million Powerball jackpot winnings.

Monday, March 28, 2005

This last week has been pretty crappy for my grandmother. Her brother was buried Saturday, and her cat was acting kinda funny. He would sit in her lap all of the time, but recently he was just going off by himself and sleeping in weird places. Yeah, I said "was". I went with her this morning to take him to the vet, and we returned home sans kitty. She's very emotional now.

I hate being "stuck" at g-ma's house for stuff like this. I feel like I can't go anywhere because I think that that would be insensitive or something. And she's just in the other room crying her eyes out. There's only so much hugging a person can do, and I can only take so much of watching her cry when there is nothing I can do about it. What am I supposed to do about something like this? I don't consider myself an insensitive person, but I just want to tell her to buck up. And I don't want to stop what I do because her cat's gone.

I tried to get my mom to go to the vet in my stead this morning because I live with my grandmother. I'm going to have to deal with all of her emotions, and I didn't want to be part of getting the news. But my mom wouldn't go. So today has been a WONDERFUL day. I suddenly wish I had planned on going somewhere for Spring Break, or that this could have happened while school was in session. I know...I'm a horrible granddaughter.

Here is a possible "comfort scenario" I'm working up to tell her:

Mimi, I know it's going to be hard getting over Gen-Gen, but he's in a better and happier place. He's with his mom, dad, and some of his siblings. He's in a place where the catnip never ends. He can jump and frolic again with his family. He's in a place where kitties are not at war. There is peace in the land. Siamese, Burmese, American short-hairs, Himalayans, Bengal, Hairless, Alleys...they are all there together in harmony; there is no prejudice or pride among them. Martin Luther Kat, Jr.'s "dream" is alive. They are happy. Isn't that what you want?

I don't think I'd be able to deliver that with a straight face.

Saturday, March 26, 2005

It's not like I don't TRY to get over my Tori addiction or at least lessen my dependence on her music. BMG, Amazon, Overstock, iTunes, and my bank account know I try. I buy new CDs all the time! Last week, I bought Morrissey's latest, and today I got 4 CDs from BMG in the mail: Radiohead's "Kid A" and "OK Computer", Alicia Keys' "Diary of...", and hits album of a certain pop princess. I KNOW! I KNOW! I caved in a big, bad way, but I love her songs "Toxic", "I'm a Slave 4 U", "Stronger", "In the Zone", "Crazy", and "Oops! I Did It Again". I couldn't help myself. There they were all together on one album and FREE from BMG because they so owe me some free stuff! I DON'T CARE WHAT YOU THINK ANYWAY! EVERYBODY'S A CLOSET BRITNEY LOVER!

Yeah, I was driving around on this beautiful day, windows rolled down, Britney telling me and the entire world that I'm toxic and that "if [I] really wanna battle, [I] saddle up and get [my] rhythm, tryin' to hit it, [I] could die, in a minute [she's] a take a [me] on. [She's] a take a [me] on." I'm not exactly sure what she's trying to say there. Her lyrics are so deep. I guess she just really likes to dance. I think she's challenging me to a duel. I don't know...the symbolism is so ambiguous.

Anyway, so when I went over to my parents' house, I noticed my package from BMG. I squealed, "YAY!", and my dad, trying to be the funny man he fancies himself being, says, "Wait, wait, wait! Lemme see. Lemme put my hand on the box and try to feel what's inside." He put his hand on the box and hummed. "Tori Amos!" I yelled, "HA HA! WRONG, SUCKAH! Britney Spears!" I thought he would choke on his water. He wasn't expecting that one. He laughed heartily.

So what I keep trying to say is I really, really make honest and valiant efforts to not be a Tori maniac, but I can't help it. At the end of the day, all I want to do is put her in the CD player or pull up my digital library at home and play her music. Is that so wrong?

And just in case you were wondering or haven't heard (because all of these other CDs I've gotten are old news), Radiohead is wonderfully dizzying, Alicia Keys is always fantastic, and Morrissey is still pist off at the world for eating meat and warring.

Friday, March 25, 2005

Last night I watched the premiere of the American version of "The Office". I have never seen the British show, and as much as I love Steve Carell, I'm thinking the British show is probably way funnier. Anyway... There is a young guy on there called Jim, who loves putting coworkers' office supplies in jell-o molds, which I think is hilarious. So all night last night, I was thinking of what I could do to my dad's office manager. What could I take that would really crank her up? Then I remembered the Shmubiks Cube fiasco of Summer 2004. I laughed hysterically to myself when I came up with the idea of putting the cube in a jello mold.

My dad came over for breakfast this morning, and I told him about the show last night and what I was thinking about. He snickered a little and said, "That would be funny. She'd probably quit." So I said, "Then I'm doin' it!" I continued talking about it, and my dad had to go burst my bubble. He said, "Carrie, please don't do that." So...I don't know... What do I do? She would be so pist. It would be hilarious. I want to do it so badly.

Thursday, March 24, 2005

My last year at the Y, I had this crazy roommate who had a crazy friend. Even though they caused me a lot of worry, I liked them. They made me laugh, and on good days, they added a much needed spark to my life.

Every once-in-a-while these two (I'll call them Thelma and Louise) and I would have what we liked to call "Heathen Sundays" where we would watch Smut TV, i.e., Elimidate, Blind Date, The Osbournes (when it was new and fresh and funny), etc., and go out to eat. Yes, we did things like that on Sundays...AT the Y, even.

One particular Sunday, we made the 40 minute journey to the city for dinner and shopping. It got to be kind of hectic because, in case you need a reminder, Thelma was crazy and needed special attention. To help her out of her bout of craziness, we drove back down through the valley (about 20 miles) via State Street so that we could have immediate diversion if we needed it...and we would need it.

We were in the south valley area when we were coming upon a boutique called Dr. John's Lingerie. We stopped there because the voices inside Thelma's head told us to and because we thought it would be fun. It was good, too, because one of my friends was getting married around that time, and I needed to find a seedy gift for her to open up that would cause all of the pure of heart in attendance to seek immediate forgiveness from God for having even laid eyes upon such vulgar things. This was one of those stores that required you having ID proving your over-twenty-oneness to enter it.

Anyway, while I was browsing, Louise was trying on who knows what. After I made my purchase, we got back into the car and continued heading south toward home. A couple minutes later, Louise said, "I snagged something for each of us!" And I thought, "It truly is a heathen Sunday. We will end it in the hoosegow." That's when she flung three paper thongs from her pocket. She laughed and told us that there was a box of sanitary thongs in the changing room for people to put on when they are trying on lingerie. So we did what any crazy girls on Heathen Sunday would do. We put them on over our jeans and wore them that way the rest of the day and night. My sane/uptight roommates didn't appreciate it so much, but it wasn't about them. It was about us, and Heathen Sunday was not yet over.

Tuesday, March 22, 2005

Me san Carrie.

There is a certain picture that pops into our minds when we hear the word, gypsy. I think of characters like Carmen and Esmeralda, dark hair, striking eyes, dancing, palm-reading, pocket-picking, goats (though that may be Disney's fault), laughter, music,...I could go on I'm sure. Nomadic behavior comes to mind, too. ...and crystal balls...and sometimes parrots, but I could be throwing some pirate in there.

Some friends convinced me that I should join (sorta like Friendster), probably so that they could have a huge list of friends and everyone could see how much they are loved, and I DO love them oh so much. Anyway, I was working on my profile, and it asked my occupation. Anyone who knows me knows I love to laugh and sing horribly and dance weirdly and spend short amounts of time in one place and I have dark hair and striking eyes. I am a gypsy. If I didn't have shaky hands, I'd probably be the best damned pocket-picker this side of the Atlantic. So for my profession, I entered "Gypsy". I figured, ANYBODY will see my picture, notice pasty white, all-american non-gypsy-ness, and KNOW that no, I'm not really a gypsy.

Saturday while I was doing absolutely nothing gypsy-related, I got an email. It read, "r u really gipsy?me 2!! alex." I laughed, and thought, "I love people who notice when I'm trying to be funny. Why can't he spell words out?" He wasn't kidding. Y'all, he's REALLY a gypsy. Now go back to the picture of the male gypsy that you have locked away in your mind. Have you got it? Alex. He's from the mountains of Romania, near the Danube; he speak the Romanes (gypsy...nothing to do with Romania), his family tells fortunes in the streets, they have huge parties every weekend where they dance and sing and make music. He was crestfallen when he learned that I wasn't really romni, but he was elated when I unloaded my "arsenal" of the language. My slight Carmen obsession has to be good for something, I s'pose. En retudi panda nasti abela macha. Thank goodness for that!

So basically the take-home message is to not claim to be a gypsy if you aren't one. Oh, and if you join ldslinkup, my screen name is, of course, karinka. Look me up, and be my friend. I want to be popular too!

Thursday, March 17, 2005


I can't imagine drinking green milk when I think white milk is repulsive.

Saturday, March 12, 2005

Being a youth leader at church, I am obligated to take the youth from our congregation to youth dances held by other area congregations on a monthly basis, which is fine because it's really funny watching them interact with each other. Tonight two other leaders and I were sitting back reminiscing about when we were the ones on the dance floor. The only time anyone ever danced was when a slow song was played because we just had to teeter around in a circle. Easy as pie! It's no different with these kids. And you know the other thing that isn't different? Bryan Adams. The DJ played that overly annoying song, "Have you ever really, really, really ever loved a woman". I HATE that song! It made me remember when a neighbor of mine at BYU and I would sing that song in the manner of vomiting whenever we heard it. So I was telling the other leaders I was sitting with that story and saying that this wasn't the worst Bryan Adams song. And simultaneously, we were all like, "Oh YEAH! What is that song called? The one from the Robin Hood movie." We could not remember it, but when we were teenagers, it was THE slow song to play and dance to with our crush. We sat deliberating over it. We remembered the video, the movie, everything around it, but we could not remember the tune and words. We were quite annoyed by that. So we went to eat cake. We had moved our conversation on to something like, "My crush had the best SKINNY ties ever!" (You remember those skinny ties? UGH! What was I thinking?!) And then TA-DAH!!! The song started. We looked at each other, screamed, "THIS IS IT!", and laughed. "You know it's true; everything I do, I do it for you." SHUT UP, BRYAN ADAMS!!! Oh, we laughed so hard, and don't you know, they played the EXTENDED version tonight.

One of the greatest concerts I've ever seen...okay...probably the greatest concert I've ever seen was a U2 concert. (Yes, it ranks above the Elton John/Billy Joel show I saw in Las Vegas.) I just bought myself a ticket to go see them again in Dallas at the end of October. I'm very excited about that. I've got a very long time to wait. I expect that between now and then, I will have seen somebody else in concert two more times, assuming that her Summer leg of the tour comes anywhere near here, and anywhere near here is an 8-hour-drive radius. I've also been known to strategically schedule trips to see friends.

Friday, March 11, 2005

I have only one word to say about this week, and it starts with an eff. was that bad.

Wednesday, March 09, 2005

Today was a pretty crappy day for me. I know I failed a test miserably on Monday. Friday I had a chemistry test that I was really worried about, but when I sat down to take it, I felt good about I was doing well on it. Well, today the verdict came in on that one, and while I didn't fail the test, i.e., I didn't get an F, I did get a D. I FREAKING D! Oh my gosh! The only thing I felt when I saw my grade was everything in me falling to my feet. I am so frustrated right now because I feel like everything's out of my control. I feel so stupid. Now the only way I can pull an A out of that class is if I ace the last three tests. ACE THEM! The most I can miss is 3 on each one. That depresses me. I have only 9 points to miss. And I have NO IDEA how it's going to turn out for the comparative anatomy test. I bombed that one so badly. The professor said that if enough people do poorly on it, he would build in another test to help buffer the bad score. So there's a little hope there.

I went to have my front two tires on my car changed out this afternoon. They put four new ones on. I told them that that was not correct, so they went to change out the other two tires. The guy who was working on my car had a friend come by, so I watched him take a lot of time talking to him rather than fixing my tires. It took him longer to change out those two tires than it did for him to change out four. He even left the garage to go talk to someone on his friend's cell phone. And when he only had the tire covers left to pop back on, he got distracted talking to somebody else, left the garage AGAIN, and went over to her car to chat for a few minutes. I was getting so worked up, that I was about to go postal in there. I was so upset from my scores, that I could not bare to watch this guy not working while I was waiting for him to finish my car. Luckily, he returned just as I was going to talk to the manager. I never did visit the manager because I just wanted to get the hell out of there.

After the tire thing, I went to the hardware store to get some bolts and washers for my dad. They had the bolts but not the washers, and since my dad's particular about such things, I decided to let him go get the stuff because I couldn't get him on the phone at that time. I went to the parents' house to give him his bolt back, and he got mad that I hadn't gotten anything at all. I was about to burst into tears, so I just walked out without saying anything.

Tonight I had to go to church for an activity with the teenage girls. I didn't want to be there. It's like the minutes couldn't tick by fast enough. I just wanted to be home talking to a friend. I still feel like crying.

I guess the good thing that happened today is Alias was pretty exciting tonight.

Tuesday, March 08, 2005

Last night, my lost love for Morten Harket, the lead singer of A-HA (You remember them. They had the smash hit in '85, "Take on Me".), was restored. I had just run over to my parents' house to chill out after a horrible, HORRIBLE performance on an anatomy practicum (a test where we had to label all of these parts of frogs, sharks, and cats), when I switched the TV to Trio, one of my favorite channels, and saw that they were about to show an A-HA concert. I thought, "Mmmm...Morten Harket..."Take on Me"..."The Sun Always Shines on TV"..."Scoundrel Days"...mmm..." I'm not capable of deep thought after failing a test. So those were my thoughts. I watched it, and after it was over, I was newly baptised by the essence of Morten. He was hotter than I ever remember him being in the 80s, when my allegiance was to him...okay, and Jon Bon Jovi...and Billy Idol. But Morty was number one.

Monday, March 07, 2005

When I was an LDS missionary in San Diego, I had an addiction. I was majorly addicted to black cherry flavored Kool-Aid. And anyone who knows me, knows that I am extreme when it comes to an addiction. No addiction of mine could complain about having received half-ass treatment from me, Tori! One day when we went grocery shopping, the store was giving away plastic Kool-Aid pitchers to purchasers of Kool-Aid. I mean, I was totally equipped in this addiction.

Whenever we'd go out to work, and sometimes we were too busy to take a lunch break at a normal lunch time, there was only one thing I wanted. That was Kool-Aid. On Sundays, we had meetings straight from 8AM - 5PM. Again, food was never on my mind. I just wanted my beverage of choice. So when we'd get home, I'd make a fresh pitcher of black cherry Kool-Aid, and then I would drink the ENTIRE THING! Do you know what that does to someone who has an empty stomach? It makes someone throw the entire pitcher back up. Every Sunday, we would go home, I would make my pitcher, I would drink it, I would reproduce it, and I would swear never to do that again. EVERY SUNDAY!

One day, we had an appointment with a lady who had ordered a video from an ad she had seen on TV. We got to her house, and we were chatting with her for a little while to get to know a little bit about each other. She was a black lady in her 40s. I told her I was from Louisiana, and she hopped up, shrieked, and ran over to give me a big, ole hug. After the commotion was over, she confessed that she was from Louisiana, too.

We continued talking and then she stopped to say that she was thirsty and to offer us a drink. She looked at me, and said, "I know what you want. You want some Kool-Aid." My companions were absolutely stunned. They thought they had entered an episode of "The Twilight Zone" or something. They laughed and asked this woman, as if she were a prophetess, how she knew what I wanted to drink. She exclaimed, "Chil', everybody in the Souf drink Kool-Aid!" She bade me help her make Kool-Aid. I mixed it up with a cup of sugar per usual. We went to sit down, she took a sip, and she said, "Girl, now I know you know this don't have enough sugar. You do not have to be shy in my house. You belong here!" So I went to fix the Kool-Aid.

I never did put a whole cup of sugar in my Kool-Aid.

Friday, March 04, 2005

I'm so sad! I spent all day yesterday and much of the night making sure I was prepared for my chemistry test today, and let me tell you: it sucked! My head has never hurt so much after a test. With our tests, usually we get a few multiple choice questions to "help us out" so we know we're getting SOME points on the test. But not today. Hoo, no! It was 7 pages of torturous questions. It seemed like 7 pages. There could have been five; I don't know. I'm mathed out. Eight pages of crazy math problems and drawing graphs and drooling from the pain. I was definitely glad when that was over. And that's the other thing! Normally, our class period ends at 12:10, but TODAY, people were hanging on to those tests until he kicked us out at 12:45. I say us because I was among the 20 or so who were still there. I was the next to last to hand the test in because when there were three minutes left, by his calculations, I had just remembered how to do this one problem.

Anyway, that's not why I'm sad. I'm sad because I knew that after my chemistry test, I would be going home to take a nap and later leave to go see Elton John play in Shreveport. My mom just called to tell me that the show has been POST. PONED! So, I'm so sad because I really didn't want to be put in a position where I would say that the last three concerts I've been to were Tori Amos concerts. I mean, I haven't gotten there yet, but if I don't go see a concert put on by somebody else before April 17th, then that's the way it's going to be. But I LOVE Elton John! LOVE HIM! He is so fun to see in concert, and I love his songs. I was so excited to go. I left my test this afternoon, and I told one of my classmates, "I don't care! I'm going to see Elton!" And now I'm not. UGH!!!

I got a new cell phone this week. I switched from AT&T to Cingular (Yes, they've merged, but I was still on an AT&T plan and not a Cingular one.), but I had to get a new phone. It's not very diverse in it's ring choices, but it does have this ring that a bunch of barnyard animals are sounding off on. It's hilarious. In fact, last week in Biology, someone's phone went off, and it was the barnyard tone. The professor normally gets pretty cranked up whenever a phone rings, but he said, "Were those barnyard noises? That's funny! I'm not even going to get pissed about that one." I didn't know that the phone I was buying had that tone on it, but I was pleasantly surprised to find it out later at home. Also, I can take pictures with it! That's very exciting.

Wednesday, March 02, 2005

My grandmother IRONED. MY. JEANS! Ironed is a funny looking word. She told me she hadn't ironed in a long time, so she decided to end the drought on my jeans. You don't IRON jeans! Jeans look stupid with a crease down the leg! Ugh! I have to go beat my jeans against the brick before i can put them on. However, I am grateful that this Sunday I will not have to iron my skirt. I hate ironing, and no drought could make me want to get up and pull out the board and iron. People sho' is crazy!