i'll hold on 'til tonight, but that's too long.
Brunch. You'd think I was a proper lady, the way I spend so much time on these things.
Today I sent off flowers: evening primrose and peonies for one individual I know of who is going to be married, buttercups for another, stephanotis for a third, and then finally unrelated to weddings, yellow carnations for someone who can't take a hint but at least speaks this language. And for me: tuberose and everlasting in some rooms, blue and white violets in others, and the Rose of Sharon everywhere. I think I do this because (though I like fall weather sometimes) it lets me pretend summer is still ongoing, and I pine for bikinis and umbrella drinks. Someone take me to St. Lucia.
I need to design a website, or possibly have one done for me, who knows. I've also been advised to shave two or three years off my age, professionally, which is really something to hear at twenty-four! I guess that's one arena in which I can be less than upfront; prospective clients would probably be annoyed if I pretended to be five foot three or built like Pamela Anderson or something, not that I'm especially inclined. It's a reminder, though, that no one can do this forever.
This flower language is the nerdiest fucking hobby in the world, I realize, oh well! I love it. You will, too, world, if I have to make you.