So the Prince picked up the new Harry Potter on Sunday. He finished it last night, and the Evil Childe is about halfway through after clamoring for the Prince to share it with her for days. And here�s how excited I am by HP:

Me, to the Prince: Wow, you�re done already? So who dies?

The Prince: So-and-so.

Me: Who?

Um, yeah... I�m not a huge fan. I read the first book, liked it ok, saw both movies, liked them ok. Haven�t bothered to read any more. See, I TOLD you I was strange. Do I have to turn in my geek card now?

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Which incidentally brings to mind sort of a recent pet peeve of mine... lately it seems to be quite the fashion on the Internet for people to call themselves geeks (or nerds or dorks) and then go on to brag about all their supposedly �uncool� interests in things like artsy-fartsy music and movies, classic literature, opera, sci-fi, science and technology, and basically anything else on the coolness bandwagon or that they think makes them sound smart. It�s not that I mind people talking about what interests them, whether it�s cool stuff or uncool stuff or snobbish stuff or whatever. It�s the disingenuousness of it that aggravates me. Pretending to be self-effacing by calling yourself a geek or dork or nerd doesn�t make bragging seem any less conceited, ok? Even if you do coyly admit to a guilty love of Barry Manilow or Pat Benatar just so you seem like less of a pseudo-intellectual snob-crowd follower. (Everyone else does that too, you know! Oh, the irony.)

Just once I�d like to see someone post something REALLY uncool about what a dork they are. Low-brow shit like wearing Maybelline cosmetics and saying �okey doke!� and eating at Applebee�s and listening to Top-40 radio and unreservedly hating opera and not really understanding how the phrase �post-modern� applies to everything from art and literature to breakfast cereal.

Like my life, for instance. (And could this be my roundabout way of bragging about how I�m a REAL non-conformist and therefore much more unique and special than all those other pseudo-unique-and-special people out there? Oh, the hypocrisy!)

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Call me fickle, but Mr. Working-My-Nerves has become Mr. My-New-Best-Friend. He said my self-portrait was beautifully drawn. After spending six hours Sunday night and into the wee hours of Monday drawing and erasing and redrawing and erasing and redrawing (go ahead and imagine a few dozen cycles of this per facial feature), I did manage to get an image of my face on the paper that I was pretty happy with. Keeping in mind this is the first real drawing class for someone who was struggling with stick figures last quarter in the design class. The portrait is big, but if I can find a way to scan it I might just put it on here in lieu of an actual photo of me. It looks pretty much like me, only I got to leave off anything I didn�t like. Cheaper than Botox!

I did manage to injure myself while drawing it, however. No stab wounds this time, but somehow I must have been sitting all wrong on the kitchen step-stool I had placed in front of the mirror in the bathroom, because when I stood up a couple of hours later I realized I had the world�s worst cramp in my hip. Which, three days later has only just begun to stop hurting, and that only after much dosing with tylenol and MSM/glucosamine and fish oil. I�ve been hobbling like a 90-year-old cripple for days now. It�s been real fun getting to and from the bus stop the past couple of days. I had wanted to swim after class yesterday, somehow still believing that swimming would be good exercise for a wussy like me. But I forgot to bring my ID for the pool. Maybe just as well, considering how crap-like I felt after I swam last week. (I am planning to take it easier next time, though!)

In spite of my injury, I was thinking my drawing skills were coming along nicely, until yesterday�s class when a simple sketch of my hat kicked my ass all over the place. If I could just figure out how to use eraser crumbs as an alternative energy source, I could soon be a rich woman.

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The To Do list went smashingly over the weekend, although I have yet to call my grandmother to thank her for the check. At this point my name has probably already been slandered all over Ohio as the ingrate that I am. But, her birthday is tomorrow so I might as well wait one more day and get double the value for my long-distance dollar, eh? I�m so hyper-efficient, I bet I�ll even manage to get her birthday gift in the mail before the end of July. (But if not, I�m sure she won�t be a bit surprised to receive it in August when we visit.)

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Having budgeted a set amount for each of us to spend on clothes on Saturday, the Evil Childe and I headed out to Wal-mart. People, they�ve got some kick-ass prices on clothing going on right now! Or maybe they always do and I just never noticed because I usually can�t find anything I like in my size there. But whatever the reason, on Saturday I hit the cheap-clothing jackpot. I bought:

Two pairs of capris--a khaki pair and a denim pair with embroidered roses on one leg.

Two tank tops�one plain white and one with a striped pattern in multiple shades of red.

Three t-shirts�a khaki, black and white striped v-neck; a blue v-neck with kind of a khaki-colored tie-dye effect; and a black scoop neck that laces up the front.

A khaki-colored short-sleeved blouse with a pattern of small navy blue stars that looks simply mahvelous over the blue tye-dyed shirt.

A short-sleeved denim shirt from the men�s department.

A pair of black bike shorts that don�t make my legs look sausage-like.

A pair of leather earth-shoe sandals that are ever so comfortable for walking and while a bit dykey-looking, go with both pants and casual skirts, thus allowing my tattoo to see the light of day once more. (And what�s wrong with dykey-looking, anyway? Might be good for picking up chicks.)

All of the above was purchase for less than $100! (I was shocked... for that much money spent at Lane Bryant, I�d get about one outfit.) The Evil Childe made out pretty well too... for her $100 she got several t-shirts, a pair of shorts, a pair of jeans, some pajama pants from the men�s department, a skirt and a nice blouse that will serve as a nice going-out-to-dinner-with-family outfit, and a pair of tennis shoes.

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Well, I�m sure that was as thrilling for ya�ll to read as it was for me to write, but I got nothing else. I really need to get off of here now anyway... something stinks in this apartment, and it�s my mission to figure out what it is. The dishes are mostly done, I took out the trash, threw away the old potatoes, the litterbox was emptied and Evil Childe is working on her room. So I�m a bit baffled... maybe something fell down beside the fridge? I dunno but I�m a woman on a mission. I really need to pick up around here too... but I�m kind of scared what I might find lurking under the deceptively placid layer of crap covering every surface of this apartment. What if I get eaten by something... and not in a good way? Wish me luck.

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Last Five
Crappy job crap, weird neighbor, and someone whose baby I apparently want to have - 2006-05-08
Live from the dump - 2006-04-09
Kind of like a muzzle for your brain - 2006-03-29
...and then she fell ass-first into my cereal bowl - 2006-03-28
Playing catch-up - 2006-03-27

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