The Bubble

There is a girl sitting way to close to me at the bar in the campus coffee shop. There is NO REASON for her to be sitting this close to me. There is plenty of space. Move over, slightly sweaty, loud girl! This space is mine. Why else would I have spread out over at least two stools worth of counter? It's a hint that I DON'T WANT YOU SITTING THERE.

I want that space so that I don't have to worry about you reading over my shoulder while I write this blog post about you.

Please stop bumping me with your elbow every five minutes and not noticing.

Please stop laughing maniacally with your three other girl and boyfriends.

Please take off your sweaty windbreaker so that it will stop cracking when you move.

Please hang your backpack on the back of the chair.


This sounds means. That's why I am writing it down instead of telling here. Because sometimes I just need to be bitchy and mean about tiny, unimportant things...

But this bubble is mine, and I don't want your presence in it.

S.A.D.

This week, I have seasonal affect disoder. That spells sad! Coincidence? I don't think so.

And now, pictures.

Weekend in Pictures

Made money like this:


Wore something kinda like this:


Read this again:



Loved this:





Felt like this:






Finished with:

Spandex Dressezzz

Over the summer, Emily got a spandex dress. She sent me a text about it that was something like,"OMG i got a spandex dress and we should both wear them spandex dressezz on our birthday!"

And then I got to Spokane and saw the glory that was the spandex dress, and I knew that that was the best idea that I had ever heard.

So eventually I got one. And then we both put them on and literally freaked out at each other in the hallway for five minutes. Good night.

I am wearing mine today. Spandex is the only acceptable fabric to wear on Valentine's Day, in my opinion.

Admire.

Job

Working five hours a week at minimum wage doesn't really work out so well anymore. Before I became a real person (i.e. turned 21), it was fine because there was nowhere to go in Spokane, and (more importantly) I had no one to go with. Because I was antisocial and minorly depressed. But anyway, moving on, $75 bi-weekly is NOT ENOUGH.

I chose to deal with this problem by being harassing the sushi restaurant across the street until they gave me a job. It worked surprisingly well.

Surprisingly.

Although I am not Japanese, and I have never worked in a restaurant. But I do have a bangs. So there was at least one point in my favor.

Point Being: I have a job, and I make tips! Legally!

Seriously, though, I like it a lot, and it is full of people that I don't know very well yet, and I like that. And sometimes I get free sushi, and/or get bi-lingually hit on by the Chinese sushi chef.

I have also been asked to join a band and play my bass. Bass= +3 points.

Related: Have you ever been convinced that someone is gay, and then once you are around them for a length of time, you find out that they are not? It is disconcerting. First impressions= -5 points.

Neighbors

The people who live next door to my house have a giant truck that they park in our shared driveway. They also have a little, decorative bench on their baby-sized porch, and it is in constant use by the family. At various times during the day, one can see: a pubescent teenage girl, a middle-aged women, or (my personal favorite) an on-his-way-to-obesity man with a salt and pepper beard. Any one of these people can often be glimpsed sitting on the dainty white bench throughout the day, and either (A). talking on a cell phone or (B). staring. Both options are disconcerting to the viewer, but the staring wins by a teeny nudge of added uncomfortable.

This morning, some friends picked me up from my house, and Near Obese Man was occupying the bench doing (B).staring, and one of my friends asked me if he was a real person.

He was sitting very, very still.

During October, someone was giving hayrides up and down Ivanhoe. At first, I didn't believe that it was true, even though I heard the tractor rumbling past my window every half-hour, but then I peeked through my blinds, saw the hayride and took a picture of it for posterity.

Christmas Break Break-Down

This Christmas:

I fulfilled my eight-grade dream of buying a bass. It is from a pawn shop and cost me $100, case included. It is obviously very high quality. It has four strings, and it is dark purple and nicked-up (which is fine. It makes me look like I actually know how to play it...) Josh gave me a tiny purple guitar amp and a cord. I feel like I'm going to be an undiscovered bass-genius, and I'm pretty sure that it gives me at least 25% more sex appeal.

Lots of brunch. One of my favorite things about being in Portland is going out to breakfast excessively. Brunching-outing is in my top five list of All Time Favorite Activities. I had Sister-Brother Bonding Brunch, and Sister-Sister Bonding Brunch, and Sister-Sister-New-Sister-Talk-About-Upcoming Wedding Brunch, among others.

Christmas shopping with Josh. Every year since I was about thirteen, Josh and I have Christmas shopped together, and it is always a lovely, lovely time. Together, we find absolutely the best presents for everyone, and this year, I got to help him pick an engagement ring. So I was extra important.