Secret confession: aside from all of you, these are three genres that the blogs on my Google Reader fall into: 1) Publishing house blogs, 2) Book blogs from prominent newspapers and magazines, 3) Mom blogs. Yeah. That's right. Blogs by moms. About their kids, grocery store runs, diapers. Because, I'm sorry, I don't care if you judge me, but these women are damn funny.
This rain is really killing my mood.
Carmen and Sarah gave me an early birthday present today. It included fairy dust, water-based wolf tattoos and gum specifically marketed for French kissing. If these gifts are any indication, I just know that this is going to be the BEST BIRTHDAY EVER.
I totally want to live here. (I have a disproportionately large amount of envy for that adorably spoilt 4-year-old, Prentiss, for having a flop-eared rabbit named Floppy Pickles, and a pony in her backyard. A PONY. And that playhouse/shed! Basically, I just want to be Prentiss. Her mother, Katie Brown, is apparently a mildly famous PBS celebrity.)
My orchid is still alive! Its color has faded a bit, but it's still full, beautiful, gracious.
I have decided to do an honors thesis on Virginia Woolf. I may or may not regret this decision in the months to come. (But right now, I'm pretty excited.)
Song of the day: "Tables and Chairs," Andrew Bird