Suits, Cake, Disputes and Rain.

It's been an odd bit between these last few posts. I haven't had a lot of time to doodle, so I've been trying to make up for it with a few photos here and there. I've also thoroughly ruined my sleep schedule and now I'm getting up sometime around 9:00 at best.

First on the order of affairs, it's my little sister's birthday, today. She's officially fourteen, and has now left lolihood behind for a full year. We took her out and bought her some fancy duds and a bottle of some celebrity-brand perfume that smells a lot like cotton candy, then treated her to Chinese and Ice-Cream. She ordered Orange Chicken, as she always does - I found that kind of amusing because she only orders Orange Chicken, but then teases me for only ordering Salmon on the rare occasion that we go out to eat. She followed it up with a single-scoop chocolate cone; when it comes to ice-cream, my sister only likes chocolate. I guess that kind of concludes it - I was planning to bake or grill for her or something, but the Orange Chicken and rain kind of put a damper on that.

I also got fitted for a suit today - apparently, with all this college stuff just around the bend, I need one. Here's a little...I don't know, soliloquy? Soliloquy, I guess, where I tell you about my disdain for clothes shopping. First off, my parents still fit the bill for a lot of my clothes, which I really hate - I tend to pick one or two things, and then wear the daylights out of them, because I don't like the Debtor's Vibe I get when they buy me things. I don't have the money to pay them back, anymore, or the money to buy the suit I supposedly need.
Then? The size-ups. Here I am in the middle of J.C. Penney's with a stranger sizing me up with a tape-measure, and being asked if I prefer Pinstripes or Solids, or if my slacks are too tight, and if they are if it's because of "My hips, or something a little further below my belt."

I don't give a damned - Frankly, if I could've gotten my parents to not feel inadequate about sending me into college with one of the suits I picked up at the dime-store I'd be pleased to high heavens, but they kind of insisted. I don't care if it's solid or striped, or if the lapels are "thirty-three point twos" or whatever the hell, just give me something cheap and functional so I can get the hell out. While all that was going on, I also remember one of my parents remarking that someone they were acquainted with purchases a set of luggage for their kid on his way to college, and they'd acted like it was some great travesty for them to have done so. I said I would've been kind of okay with something like that, because it'd have made me think of Holden Caulfield and how he hid his luggage when he was at college because seeing the beat-up luggage of his room-mate kind of made him feel bad. I like Holden Caulfield a lot - I think there's a bit of Holden in all of us.

Liam's in a rough situation, or rather, was. I kind of wish this Birthday affair were on a different day, because I've been sweating it all day, like he probably suspected me to. His stepdad went postal over something as trivial as a Chihuahua. Furthermore, it escalated to contact. I think a concerned neighbor called the authorities and Liam and his mother were scooted off to a grandparent's place.
Oddly enough, I don't think it was the physical stuff that worried me. Some pretty brutal things were said about him while the dispute was going on, and I just, I don't know, I'm worried his pride might be wounded, or his self-image bruised.
In all actuality, he's probably just peachy, and going "I bet that nun's sitting back, worrying about things that aren't an issue."

It rained, as I've vaguely mentioned. This means, of course, that I've gone on a walk in it. My favorite part about the streets when it rains are the storm-drains. I like to walk near them. My favorite storm-drain here is this one:

It's my favorite because of the fish painted onto its top and the odd things growing out it.









I also sort of like this one, because it's plugged. I think it's plugged because of sand - someone had that odd plaster-sand, like from that book 'Tangerine', and it washed into the drain and it hasn't drained-off since. It used to smell less than pleasant, but as it gradually washed itself, now it's very lovely to look at, I think.













I figured I'd end off with this little campaign poster that I thought Hjalmar would appreciate. Somewhere, Joseph Stalin wants to be your County Clerk. He has political experience, you know!