...but here I am again. It's been a crazy month, friends.
I have completed my pop music class. I have not completed my French course. I have babysat a ton. I have congratulated my friends on graduating university. I have not graduated university. I have mended a huge pile of clothing. I have sold a huge pile of clothing. I have not sold textbooks but will this coming week. I have found a beautiful dress, a few books, a pincushion shaped like a globe on a stand, and an old skirt-hemming measure gadget at the Goodwill. I have not found an apartment, at the Goodwill or anywhere else. I have had some epiphanies. I have not solved all my problems. I have danced, drank, sang, smiled, sewn, cooked, spoken with friends. I have basked in the sun. I have not been pleased with the periodic rain.
That's enough of that particular brand of rambling though.
Favorite craft project: as a tribute to E's strep throat, a pouch depicting a (heavily gluegunned) patchwork picture of an opened and tonsilly mouth, with buttonmaker pins and a "Just Say NO! to Strep" placard. Didn't take a picture. Don't have a camera. Slightly regretful of that.
Best burgeoning new skill: putting on eyeshadow! K is teaching me. I've got a decent handle on, like, foundation and liner and lip stuff by now, but eye makeup beyond a swipe at edge of lid and a glop of mascara has remained beyond me.
Does anyone else ever feel as if they were home sick the day everyone else had girl lessons or something? I mean, I was there for all the cattiness and social position-jockeying, I was there when we did the preliminary hair-dyeing and everyone compared notes about holding hands with boys. But there were certain lectures I feel as if I slept through. Makeup day. Appropriately-dressed-for-the-situation day. The day when they taught us how to put our hair up in those messy buns that everyone wore in grade five?
It's a beautiful day out right now. I'm going to go out in the world.