I started working on unpacking another box. Yes, I've lived here since August, STFU. :)

And this is like Christmas! I found a lipstick I had forgotten was in existence--it took me a good ten minutes to remember where/why the hell I had it. I don't wear lipstick! I mean, I went through a crazy makeup phase a few years ago, and I bought two "long wear" lipsticks, and then a handful of 99 cent ones (NYC at WalMart). This is a Mary Kay lipstick. I remembered it cost about $14, but it took me ages to remember that I'd bought it from my aunt, sort of out of guilt.

And then there's this ratty old shoebox, taped carefully shut, and full of something rattling and heavy. I couldn't even being to fucking guess what's in here. Holy shit, it's all my perfumes!

And at the bottom of another box, my fridge magnets--including my ultra-classy Vegas dice picture frame. In that frame is the only damn thing in Vegas I found with my name spelled right on it: a business-card sized hooker ad handed out on the street. My mom and grandma loved seeing that on the fridge of my old apartment. Oh yes. I am made of class.


An hour later ..... this is why it takes me so damn long to get anything done. I'm so easily distrac .... look! A squirrell!

Seriously though, I have a habit of ending up reading a book I haven't read in a while, or looking up a fact something reminded me off while unpacking, or whatever. Usually the book thing. The particular time, it's the book of The Princess Bride. And yep, I still fucking hate the book. Buttercup's an idiot, Westley's sort of a douchebag, and generally I just don't like it. Going back on the bookshelf for another nine years, at which point I'll probably forget what I hate it so much and read it again and be just as pissed off!


I've been 27 for 59 minutes now.

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