![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
mayhapYesterday my entire family piled into the minivan and went back to school shopping all day long. Hit up a Famous Footwear and several fine establishments on the Plaza. I now have (among other things) a pair of black galoshes and a couple of gorgeous skirts in which I could easily take over the world. (This is where those of you who know me in real life start to sputter about the outrageous idea of me wearing a skirt.) My little brother now has (among other things) a lie detector watch from the Discovery Store (ages six and up).
We tried it out in the car and it could be said to work, inasmuch as it showed two bars when we were lying, and only one when we were telling the truth. It probably doesn't help that we were lying quite cheerfully ("Are you going to leave the country?" "No, I'm going to move to Texas and live there all my life!"). It might have produced a more agitated response if my brother had asked me something a little more, shall we say. sensitive (Take one hypothetical example: "Are you a virgin?" "Um ... ") but of course, my parents were in the van with us. He plans to amuse himself with it muchly among his friends.
A $450 coat fell in love with me at the Halls store where I got my skirts (off the clearance rack, I assure you). Sadly, our relationship is not meant to be. It was long and black and cashmere and had this spiffy ruffle thing going on all down the front, and it was the sexiest damn thing I have ever put on, even beating out my prom dress (which, like, I want to wear to Wal-Mart or something. It's just sitting in my brother's closet, not doing anyone any good). As we left the store, some woman was touching my coat. Bitch. *g*
Today at the library some woman came in with a book she had checked out to rant righteously. It was some piece of unreadable vanity-published tripe with spelling and grammatical errors on every page. Specifically, it was this one: Boudica, Queen of the Iceni. Although our copy had an even less professional-looking cover, with a dark brown to light brown to dark brown gradient thing going on. It's ... very bad:
Yeah, I'd be upset if I'd placed a hold on that book thinking that it was a work of non-fiction, too.
You know, I have serious doubts about my ability to look cool in Scotland. I barely have the slightest idea how to look cool in the United States, where I have lived all my life. However, I intend to make an attempt. ;)
I know I cannot wear white socks. What I do not know is where in the hell I can find a sufficient supply of decent non-white socks in this blasted place, especially at this time of the year. But I shall try.
We tried it out in the car and it could be said to work, inasmuch as it showed two bars when we were lying, and only one when we were telling the truth. It probably doesn't help that we were lying quite cheerfully ("Are you going to leave the country?" "No, I'm going to move to Texas and live there all my life!"). It might have produced a more agitated response if my brother had asked me something a little more, shall we say. sensitive (Take one hypothetical example: "Are you a virgin?" "Um ... ") but of course, my parents were in the van with us. He plans to amuse himself with it muchly among his friends.
A $450 coat fell in love with me at the Halls store where I got my skirts (off the clearance rack, I assure you). Sadly, our relationship is not meant to be. It was long and black and cashmere and had this spiffy ruffle thing going on all down the front, and it was the sexiest damn thing I have ever put on, even beating out my prom dress (which, like, I want to wear to Wal-Mart or something. It's just sitting in my brother's closet, not doing anyone any good). As we left the store, some woman was touching my coat. Bitch. *g*
Today at the library some woman came in with a book she had checked out to rant righteously. It was some piece of unreadable vanity-published tripe with spelling and grammatical errors on every page. Specifically, it was this one: Boudica, Queen of the Iceni. Although our copy had an even less professional-looking cover, with a dark brown to light brown to dark brown gradient thing going on. It's ... very bad:
Mari does not speak. She takes out her crystal skull and stares into it. Chersia nods her head and covers her face. Canosia sits and stares off into the distance. As Mari stares into the crystal skull, she sees a great battle. She sees the Romans killing many Celts. She sees Julian battle with Boudica. She sees the battle rage for hours.
Yeah, I'd be upset if I'd placed a hold on that book thinking that it was a work of non-fiction, too.
You know, I have serious doubts about my ability to look cool in Scotland. I barely have the slightest idea how to look cool in the United States, where I have lived all my life. However, I intend to make an attempt. ;)
I know I cannot wear white socks. What I do not know is where in the hell I can find a sufficient supply of decent non-white socks in this blasted place, especially at this time of the year. But I shall try.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
Righteous embarassment
Date: 2004-08-17 01:57 pm (UTC)Stumbled here randomly...mind if I friend you?
Re: Righteous embarassment
Date: 2004-08-17 02:20 pm (UTC)Well, that, or not buying the book in the first place.