I don't often get homesick because, quite frankly, I'm not really sure where to call home. Technically, home at the moment is Charleston---which is where my apartment and my job and my boyfriend and, more importantly, my pink Kitchenaid mixer are---but my family lives 30,000 miles away in Singapore. Moreover, I spent my childhood all over the place---France, Holland, Hong Kong, Abu Dhabi, Connecticut----which sort of confuses the matter.
Here is something sad: it's past eight on a Friday night, and I'm STILL AT WORK. Here's something even sadder: I'm mad that I'm still at work because it means that I've had to abandon the plans I had for tonight. And the plans I had were to clean my house.
How romantic! It's Secret Bachelor Tuesday, and yet it's also Valentine's Day! Can't you just feel the love? Can't you just hear me vomiting?
Thank you, Internet, for all the lovely birthday wishes! You were all so kind, and you made me want to bake and deliver each of you a cake for your own birthday!
When I picked Sean up from the airport this morning, after his five days in Tahoe, the first thing I saw was the hospital bracelet around his wrist. Then I looked down and saw that the boy was WEARING SLIPPERS. In an airport! I immediately searched around in case he was dragging an IV behind him or leaning on a pair of crutches, but there was no further evidence that he'd suffered a life-endangering snowboard accident. And, uh, that's because he hadn't. Do you want to know why he'd been to the hospital?
So remember my last entry, when I spilled someone else's salad and wore a sweater that wasn't appropriate for the weather and I was all "god, I'm having the WORST DAY EVER." Remember that?
You know what's pretty awful?
When I was about 17, we read Ben Jonson's play Volpone in English class and I wasn't really into it. I was much more enamoured of the other two books we were studying---The Great Gatsby and Lyrical Ballads, I think---and every time Tuesday afternoon rolled around, I could hardly believe it was Volpone day again, because it seemed like we'd just had Volpone day and seriously, now we were having it again?
Don't you wish you worked in the office in The Office? Preferably the NBC one rather than the BBC one, mainly because Jim is quite a bit hotter than Tim, but still, either would do. My office is not like The Office, but sometimes it's still quite amusing. Sometimes there are scenes like this: