(no subject)
So, Christmas! I hope everyone's was as good as mine, because mine was pretty stinkin' good. Sarah, I got your card last weekend, thaaank you, baby. And Char, yours arrived last night! I got home late so I've only had a chance to glance at it so far, but I am so stoked to read the story and the picture is lovely, you look so happy in it. (Speaking of Christmas loving, mine's still coming, I swear. If there's one thing you should know about me, it's that I have this tendency toward tardiness.)
I think my family missed my presence for the holidays last year because they totally spoiled me with presents this go 'round. I'm huddled up now in bed now wearing my new sweatpants and moccasins, swaddled in the blanket my mom and sister made for me (which I have taken to dragging around the house with me ala Linus), contemplating watching another episode of season four of Gilmore Girls, which Tina wisely gifted us with. I spent Christmas Eve after the candlelight church service making new stockings out of old sweaters, and they turned out pretty awesome, but I am never sewing wool ever again, ugh. But I love those things about Christmas, the domesticity of it; the blazing fireplace, the tree all lit up, the cookies baking, my family being together and goofing off. ♥
I am sick up to here with the rain though. Where the hell is my snow?
And on Wednesday, I hit the peak of my book-selling career when David James Duncan came in and bought books from me. I knew him the minute he walked in the door and calmly proceeded to shelve books in his general browsing vicinity for a while, enough to overhear him talking with the man he came in with about designing his next book cover. And then he came up to my counter when he was ready to go and I nearly plotzed, but managed small talk and politeness. After he left:
Co-Worker T: You look a little flushed.
Me: Do you KNOW who that WAS!?
Co-Worker T: ...no?
Me: DAVID James DUNCAN, man, he's my HERO. I have FLUTTERS in my stomach!
Co-Worker T: Maybe you should go sit down for a minute and recuperate.
This is about the fourth encounter with the man, and I still get sweaty palms when he's around. Seriously, I think he's genius, it's this big stupid-inducing hero-worship thing.
I think my family missed my presence for the holidays last year because they totally spoiled me with presents this go 'round. I'm huddled up now in bed now wearing my new sweatpants and moccasins, swaddled in the blanket my mom and sister made for me (which I have taken to dragging around the house with me ala Linus), contemplating watching another episode of season four of Gilmore Girls, which Tina wisely gifted us with. I spent Christmas Eve after the candlelight church service making new stockings out of old sweaters, and they turned out pretty awesome, but I am never sewing wool ever again, ugh. But I love those things about Christmas, the domesticity of it; the blazing fireplace, the tree all lit up, the cookies baking, my family being together and goofing off. ♥
I am sick up to here with the rain though. Where the hell is my snow?
And on Wednesday, I hit the peak of my book-selling career when David James Duncan came in and bought books from me. I knew him the minute he walked in the door and calmly proceeded to shelve books in his general browsing vicinity for a while, enough to overhear him talking with the man he came in with about designing his next book cover. And then he came up to my counter when he was ready to go and I nearly plotzed, but managed small talk and politeness. After he left:
Co-Worker T: You look a little flushed.
Me: Do you KNOW who that WAS!?
Co-Worker T: ...no?
Me: DAVID James DUNCAN, man, he's my HERO. I have FLUTTERS in my stomach!
Co-Worker T: Maybe you should go sit down for a minute and recuperate.
This is about the fourth encounter with the man, and I still get sweaty palms when he's around. Seriously, I think he's genius, it's this big stupid-inducing hero-worship thing.