happy conference week!

i'm breaking out. not seriously, but still. i never break out, not since, um, sophomore year of high school (thanks to a drug that's actually now be recommended to be taken off the market. i was excited to hear that, lemme tell ya). my normally clear-as-a-bell skin has a couple of blemishes. i am shallow enough for this to be a minor annoyance. not that anyone who's not me would even notice.

i broke a plate. one of the plates my parents bought me last year, i think in october. it was a set of four, with green borders and an off-white swirl. it was a good plate - didn't even shatter when it broke. i miss momma; ceramics make me think of her, especially since my first thought was, hmm, should i use this in a mosaic?
i am trying not to take this as a sign. even if it is one, i don't know what it means.

i only have to go to economics twice more!!

i got mytunes and went bat shit crazy, which is also my new favorite phrase.

how bored was i? i counted my underwear. yep. again.
i have 33 pairs of underwear, not including 4 v-strings. i think it's time for a purge, no? it's a sign when only half your socks (also a ridiculous amount of them) can fit in the drawer if all your underwear is put away. not to mention room for sleepwear. oy. which reminds me, i need a total lingerie overhaul. woot.

the sweet girls on my hall gave me a scarf! aww!

joe gallegos facebook friended me. weird.
i can't tell if rio hates me or not, but i love her chapbook.

NO ONE has a christmas present yet. i'm not kidding. okay, i may have knit a scarf or two. don't worry, they're probably not for you.

if emily gets in to pitzer AND slc, which is quite likely, i will experience a crisis - to counsel her as a good big sister, or a selfish girl who wants all her best friends to come live with her?

you know it's conference week if:
i am wearing sweatpants. in public.
alison keohane is wearing pants.

oh, and this is just for thomas, because i'm pretty sure it's related to that random movie "miracle" he's so devoted to:
someone in the SLC library posted a banner made of notebook paper. each sheet has a letter on it, and the text reads "MIRACLES HAPPEN HERE", which is cute and probably uplifting for the library inmates. there are literally people who do not leave the lib the last couple weeks of school; some of them are starting to smell.

"Don’t get it right, get it written." best advice ever. close runner-up: Done is way more awesome than perfect.
Write. Now. Write.

as far as my actual conference work: I want to throw up. The weird shit men spend time thinking up to do to our bodies. The creepy, weird-ass shit they will devote their lives to, the wacked-out theories they will come up with, the bullshit they will try to sell. Are they serious? This shit doesn’t make any sense. A woman’s reproductive system is more complex than a man’s, yet we’ve spent decades and millions figuring out how to stop ovulation. Why? Seriously, dude, this whole womb-envy theory gains more and more credibility with me.