Listening to:

Over breakfast this morning I read the most delightful article in the Globe and Mail. (God, I love the Globe and Mail.) Not only was it witty and funny, but it's also about books, about a festival, and I've decided I will take part in it next year. First, though, I have to figure out if I can rent a car so I can drive to Hay-On-Wye, Wales. I highly doubt there's a cheap bus that goes by there. The onlin article doesn't have pictures, though, so you can't see the great shot they had of the walls of the town which were stone bookshelves filled with beautiful coloured cloth-covered books. Oh, man, it looks so nice there. I feel all squishy inside just thinking about it. Go read the article, would you? It's lovely.

For the past few weeks I've been reading her older entries while I work, as though they were little holidays for my brain to keep me from getting too engrossed in the accounts I have to write of six-car accidents on the highway (seriously, that's what I did last week. I was so depressed because of it.). This is what I do when I find a new weblog thingie that I like: I read it in its entirety. Is that wrong of me? Am I not supposed to do that? Does this make me a webstalker? Anyway, it's making me feel all nice and smart and funny (three things that I am not, usually), but it's also causing me problems. Firstly, the blue background is subtle enough for me to have to open when people walk by, but the penguins give it away. I have to make sure no one is around before I change entries, and I often forget. So now everyone knows I'm a slacker. Which wasn't much of a secret anyway. Secondly, most entries are funny in some way or other, and my laughter recovery time is not what it used to be. So now people think I am both a slacker and an eternally smiling dingbat. Sigh. Thirdly, Mimi reads too many interesting things. I now have a list two pages long of books I would like to read that she's reminded me of. Number One on the list is Martin Amis's The Information, though I doubt the Mississauga Public Library carries it. Such is the fate of one who is too cultured for suburbia.

I'm feeling a bit geeky today because I dressed myself all wrong this morning. Cait and Lara are taking me out to lunch today, and I wanted to show Cait my new (hand made! by me!) socks, but I also wanted to wear a skirt. So now I'm wearing a black polo shirt over an aubergine tank top, my jean skirt which comes just past my knees, my aubergine (I love that word) socks and Docs. Could I look any shorter? No, no I could not. I look and feel ridiculous. For shame, Emily, for shame.

On the bright side, though, I smell heavenly. After my shower last night, I used my facy-ass Bergamot and Coriander moisturizer (from Bath & Body Works, which has a shit website, so I won't even bother) all over my arms and legs. I smell like prettiness.

As a final note today, I would like to ask you a small favour. Yesterday I finally succeeded in procuring Caitlin's long-sought-after purple converse shoes (though, of course, because I'm a fuck-up, they were the wrong size, so I'll fix that tonight if I EVER GO HOME) and her joy (though short-lived) has made me yearn for new shoes of my own. Specific new shoes, actually. My favourite shoes ever. Black diesel sneaker with beige soles (not the yellow soles! no!) in size 9 (so I can fit my lifts in so walking doesn't make me break my ankle). If you see these shoes, please alert me immediately. I will come running, though I might be a bit slow since my current shoes are falling apart.

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