(this is annie)

Somebody has sent a package to me! A package! I love receiving and sending packages! The mail carrier will be bringing it by within the next day or two! Package package package!

(Please do not read anything into my enthusiasm over the word. Sometimes a package is just a package.)

This morning while on the Amtrak, a four-year-old began tossing chocolate coins at me. Goshdamned rugrat.

Other happy thing going on: hanging out with Brian Sholis this week! Triple yay! Going to meet Internet Chum ("Ooh, nice hats," said Betty). Everybody liked the holly jolly handmade gifts.

Excerpt from e-mail sent yesterday, describing my Christmas afternoon; baby Jesus would certainly disapprove of such foul-mouthed adventures on his birthday:

So yesterday, get this: parents and I go to see LOTR. This is a big deal because it's hard to drag them outside of the house, and the movie theatre is in Kalamazoo (16 miles away). So I finally get them to go to the 3:00 showing. We arrived at the theater aroudn 2:15, and some kid who works there says, "No ticket sales until 2:45." We agree that it's a silly idea, but instead of staying put (my plan) they decide that we need to go to Walgreens. So we pile back into the car, go to Walgreens, and stand in the bandage aisle while my mom tries on wrist braces. She does not buy any. We drive back to the theatre, where there are literally 50 people in line. Then we wait in line. LOTR sells out and I (very audibly) say, "FUCK." My mom gives me a dirty look, my father starts giggling, and the gentle citizens of West Michigan look at me oddly. Then, instead of seeing a different movie, we drive back home. Ridiculous.