(no subject)
'Twas my day off today, so I used it to go to several libraries and managed to find books 9 and 10 from A Series of Unfortunate Events. I'll worry about number 11 when I get there.
Since I was at Kringlan anyway, and I wasn't sure when I'd have time for shopping again during the next week, I set out to find a birthday present for Mr Kristján, who has the honour of turning 15 on the 5th of July. I had planned on getting him Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them, so I went to Eymundsson. The book wasn't there, though, so I set off to the teen's section to find something he might find interesting. I came to the conclusion that I'd be great at reccomending children's books, because I recognised so many books and authors in that section that I found myself thinking all the time, "This book is great. I love that author! That book wasn't so good. This one's okay."
Anyways, I ended up buying the creepiest children's book I've ever read - and I've read a lot, mind you. Yep, I'm talking about Neil Gaiman's Coraline. I hope Kristján will read it. It's teh awesome. I think I gave it 10 out of 10 points on the Miriam-o-meter.
Later I went to my uncle's moving-in party. I probably spent more time with the children than with the adults. Adults always ask the same questions. It gets boring after a while.
Just as I was about to leave, my uncle's wife's friend called me to her, looked into my eyes and said something along the lines of, "Jesus is our saviour, you know. Do you believe in Jesus?"
Truthfully, I said yes, but wondered where she was going. She continued rambling about Jesus a bit until I was starting to wonder whether she was trying to be funny or if she thought I needed converting, so I asked her, "What are you talking about?"
My uncle's wife explained that her friend had majored in theology in university. Which doesn't really explain anything. After all, I'm not intending to quote Shakespeare to random strangers after I've graduated.
The woman then said something about how I'm a pretty girl and a nice girl, but "you could do with becoming more of a chick." Another lady in the room agreed. This really pissed me off, but I didn't show it. Instead I just convinced them that I like being a tomboy, and that the reason that I'm not very chick-ish isn't because I don't know how, but simply because I don't want to be one. I stopped myself from blurting out that girls tend to annoy me, because she might have been insulted.
I think she said something along the lines of, "Well, if you like being a tomboy, I suppose it's okay, then." Which pissed me off, too, because it indicated that a girl couldn't possibly be happy unless she smeared make-up in her face.
When my uncle gave me a ride home he explained that the wine was probably starting to show some effects. I guess he's right. Maybe that lady doesn't tell random girls at parties to trust in Jesus and become girlier when she's completely sober.
...
Still kinda pissed off.