Mom and dad are out house hunting. I probably should have gone with them. But I heard its painful.
Dear tastebuds. October is around the corner. In other words, prepare for apples, cinnamon and pumpkin.
So the chilly autumn air goes around loosening all the padlocks that were keeping Christmas carols hidden away for the season. Too bad. Now they’re running around rampant and dancing in my head … ” … bringing the cheer to young and old, meek and the bold, la-dee-dee-daa”
University visit today:
Admission’s Counselor: “That’s a big bag. You must get stuff lost in it all the time, I know I would.”
I just chuckled politely and nodded mutely because if she really must know that was one of my smaller bags. I mean, how else are you supposed to walk around with a mini first aid kit, an emergency “oh-my-goodness-it’s-that-mean-girl-must-look-amazing kit”, phone, wallet, journal, pens, pencils, candy, and a whole assortment of who knows what? This is the bag she’s talking about: I mean, it’s not thaaat big. Ok. Maybe it is. Kinda large. Maybe. But it beats the time I walked around with a bag bag. As in three times that big bag. Oh yes. I did.
“A writer lives, at least, in a state of astonishment. Beneath any feeling he has of the good or evil of the world lies a deeper one of wonder at it all. To transmit that feeling, he writes.” –William Sansom
You know when you’re baking wonderfully soft, chewy cookies and suddenly while they’re cooling they decide to become almond brittle consistency instead? Yeah. I hate that.
Overheard in the “Specialty Foods” aisle at a grocery store:
Wife – “Hmm… should we take some of these?”
Husband – *sigh* “Just take normal food.”
(From that walk on Labor Day. That picture I told you to look closely at..)
Seen in the park yesterday:
A couple with a toddler and a dog.
The father pushed the stroller.
The mother held the leash.
The dog was in the stroller.
The toddler was on the leash.
Mkay. I’ve got a composition on shoes under my belt, now I just need one on how MacBeth is a tragic hero. Because obviously that’ll make me well rounded in writing abilities. Or if I continue this pre-composition writing scenario of stuffing my face with cake and tea, just well rounded.
Sometimes I write Pinterest multiple times just to get on auto correct’s sassy little nerves. I’m a bad girl like that.
Why haven’t they figured out a m1 m2 m3 function for copying and pasting?
Today I went to the doctor. I actually didn’t loathe him. Wanna know why? He knew that in Brazil we speak Portuguese not Spanish/Brazilian!