Confessions

i cannot stand book jackets. as long as it is my book, i generally take them off for the duration of the read, only making use of them as bookmarks. sorry publishers...total waste of paper, i think.

hypothesis: i have a strong suspicion that air is somehow escaping my right eye. proof: whenever i put my sunglasses on in the car, only my right lens fogs up. obvious conclusion: i have a small perforation somewhere in my eye socket that lets air out. more disturbing question - if i held my breath and was quiet for long enough, would it whistle?

i have proof positive that i can indeed be starstruck. today john lithgow came into the museum store, and after basically saying, "hello, nice to see you!" and having him say the same back, i immediately called my boyfriend and my mom and just now changed my facebook status to reflect my having met him. i thought i was cool, only to find out i was lame.

my feet are permanently freezing unless wedged securely under pete. this may be a tactic to be close to him that my body has contrived completely independent of my brain, or i have little to no circulation. you may take bets.