After reading Mrs-Roboto�s narrative of the Pixies show/Vancouver trip, I realized how lazy I have become with this journal thingy. If it can�t be said in 200 words or less, I don�t bother to say it. Which is too bad because my memory is pretty bad already and I�m sort of counting on this diary to entertain/inform me in my old age when I can�t remember any of my youth anymore. Oh well.
One thing Mrs-R didn�t tell you, though, is that she is an expert guide to Vancouver. The fact is that without her the three of us would have been wandering around Vancouver like lost puppies, and there is no way we could have found the cheese store. (God bless the cheese store.) She�s also funny (duh) and good in a crisis. Which I am not. I have a very unfortunate tendency to huff, which is, as my mother would say, very unattractive.
I also have a fever.
It started hailing just now.
Also, I sunburned my hands a couple of weeks ago and they are STILL UGLY AND SCARY. I am scaly lobster-claw person. I'm on this medication that makes me extra-sensitive to the sun, which for me pretty much means that I spontaneously combust every time I step outside. The sun is my abusive boyfriend that I keep going back to because I'm just that stupid.
Wow, it thundered! And lightninged! (Okay, �lightninged� isn�t a word, but it should be.) It never does that here. I think Baby Jesus is trying to tell me that I shouldn�t stick around for my night class, but should instead take the next bus home and hunker down with my baby kitty for the impending apocalypse.
p.s. The Hasselhoff thing is really dorky and not funny or interesting. You would respect me (even) less if you knew.
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