So I guess I can safely wish
you a happy birthday, because I passed. Even though I shouldn't have (I didn't signal changing lanes and drove into a crosswalk but really, I'm not usually awful).
I guess that updating daily thing has been shot to hell.
One of my favorite bookstores, a store called Wordsworth, in Harvard Square, is closing. When I was a kid, I always begged my mum to go there whenever we were anywhere in Boston, but she only actually took me if we were within eyesight. It's been there for about thirty-five years, always bustling, always floor to ceiling books, and I looked in the windows to see a few books on every shelf and the lights off. Thankfully, there's already a Gap across the street, so most likely another one won't be moving in there.
In fact, this distressed me so much that I blew $150 on absolutely nothing in about twenty minutes. On three things. This is open season for flaming; please, be my guest.
I CAN DRIVE LALALLALAAAAAAA so I'm going out for a bit. Ciuaouoaaooai.