2004-12-19 - 3:07 p.m.
So, I haven't blogged in days, and I'm not entirely sure what to talk about. My tummy hurts cuz I ate a bunch of stuff yesterday that me and my lining aren't used to. I got The 400 Blows as an early Christmas present which is great in that smarmy, French, film-major way. If I were super-drunk right now, I might give a little French New Wave lecture, but I'm not, so you're spared. Mike called me this morning because he went out for crepes and forgot to bring a book...which prompted the question, "If I were a book, what book would I be?" I might be something old and romantical like Wuthering Heights or Madame Bovary or something else by a Bronte. OR I could be an alarming piece of erotica. Most likely though I'd be some ridiculous children's book--and not, like, Where the Wild Things Are or Oh, the Places You'll Go. I would be something far more giggle-worthy and bodily-function related like Everybody Poops or Farting is Awesome or Don't Stick that Carrot in Your Nose.
God, I really am a simple, simple individual. Which would suck if it didn't mean that really simple things make me supremely happy. Like Dairy Queen Freezes or DVDs from Chad. Or The Bar. Or boys who call when they go out for crepes and forget to bring a book.
