Friday, June 25, 2004
Wednesday, June 23, 2004
Can't think of what to say, can't think of what to do, just think I'm losing my mind
Currently Listening To: Evanescence-Hello
Malcolm is back home today from the vet. We dropped him off yesterday to have his claws removed and to have him fixed. He seems to be doing just fine. Only problem is I dont think he likes the fact that instead of there being litter in his litter box there is newspaper. He's not quite used to it yet. Hopefully he'll use it though! Cause I dont want him going on my floor or under my bed.
I took some new pictures, and then I fiddled with my photoenhancer thingy that the webcam came with and came up with this:
Neat eh?
Malcolm is back home today from the vet. We dropped him off yesterday to have his claws removed and to have him fixed. He seems to be doing just fine. Only problem is I dont think he likes the fact that instead of there being litter in his litter box there is newspaper. He's not quite used to it yet. Hopefully he'll use it though! Cause I dont want him going on my floor or under my bed.
I took some new pictures, and then I fiddled with my photoenhancer thingy that the webcam came with and came up with this:
Neat eh?
Sunday, June 20, 2004
Restless tonight cause I wasted the light
Currently Listening To: Finger Eleven-One Thing
The Pickle Jar
The pickle jar as far back as I can remember sat on the floor
beside the dresser in my parents' bedroom. When he got ready for
bed, Dad would empty his pockets and toss his coins into the jar.
As a small boy I was always fascinated at the sounds the coins made
as they were dropped into the jar. They landed with a merry jingle
when the jar was almost empty. Then the tones gradually muted to a
dull thud as the jar was filled. I used to squat on the floor in
front of the jar and admire the copper and silver circles that
glinted like a pirate's treasure when the sun poured through the
bedroom window. When the jar was filled, Dad would sit at the
kitchen table and roll the coins before taking them to the bank.
Taking the coins to the bank was always a big production. Stacked
neatly in a small cardboard box, the coins were placed between Dad
and me on the seat of his old truck. Each and every time, as we
drove to the bank, Dad would look at me hopefully. "Those coins are
going to keep you out of the textile mill, son. You're going to do
better than me. This old mill town's not going to hold you back."
Also, each and every time, as he slid the box of rolled coins
across the counter at the bank toward the cashier, he would grin
proudly. "These are for my son's college fund. He'll never work in
the mill.
We would always celebrate each deposit by stopping for an ice cream
cone. I always got chocolate. Dad always got vanilla. When the
clerk at the ice cream parlour handed Dad his change, he would show
me the few coins nestled in his palm. "When we get home, we'll
start filling the jar again." He always let me drop the first coins
into the empty jar. As they rattled around with a brief, happy
jingle, we grinned at each other. You'll get to college on pennies,
nickels, dimes and quarters," he said. "But you'll get there. I'll
see to that."
The years passed, and I finished college and took a job in another
town. Once, while visiting my parents, I used the phone in their
bedroom, and noticed that the pickle jar was gone. It had served
its purpose and had been removed. A lump rose in my throat as I
stared at the spot beside the dresser where the jar had always
stood. My dad was a man of few words, and never lectured me on the
values of determination, perseverance, and faith. The pickle jar
had taught me all these virtues far more eloquently than the most
flowery of words could have done. When I married, I told my wife
Susan about the significant part the lowly pickle jar had played in
my life as a boy. In my mind, it defined, more than anything else,
how much my dad had loved me.
No matter how rough things got at home, Dad continued to doggedly
drop his coins into the jar. Even the summer when Dad got laid off
from the mill, and Mama had to serve dried beans several times a
week, not a single dime was taken from the jar. To the contrary, as
Dad looked across the table at me, pouring catsup over my beans to
make them more palatable, he became more determined than ever to
make a way out for me. "When you finish college, Son," he told me,
his eyes glistening, "You'll never have to eat beans again...unless
you want to."
The first Christmas after our daughter Jessica was born; we spent
the holiday with my parents. After dinner Mom and Dad sat next to
each other on the sofa, taking turns cuddling their first
grandchild. Jessica began to whimper softly, and Susan took her
from Dad's arms. "She probably needs to be changed," she said,
carrying the baby into my parents' bedroom to diaper her.
When Susan came back into the living room, there was a strange mist
in her eyes. She handed Jessica back to Dad before taking my hand
and leading me into the room. "Look," she said softly, her eyes
directing me to a spot on the floor beside the dresser. To my
amazement, there, as if it had never been removed, stood the old
pickle jar, the bottom already covered with coins. I walked over to
the pickle jar, dug down into my pocket, and pulled out a fistful
of coins. With a gamut of emotions choking me, I dropped the coins
into the jar. I looked up and saw that Dad, carrying Jessica, had
slipped quietly into the room. Our eyes locked, and I knew he was
feeling the same emotions I felt. Neither one of us could speak.
This truly touched my heart.
Sometimes we are so busy adding up our troubles that we forget to
count our blessings. Never underestimate the power of your actions.
With one small gesture you can change a person's life, for better
or for worse.
"The best and most beautiful things cannot be seen or touched -
they must be felt with the heart." ~ Helen Keller
The Pickle Jar
The pickle jar as far back as I can remember sat on the floor
beside the dresser in my parents' bedroom. When he got ready for
bed, Dad would empty his pockets and toss his coins into the jar.
As a small boy I was always fascinated at the sounds the coins made
as they were dropped into the jar. They landed with a merry jingle
when the jar was almost empty. Then the tones gradually muted to a
dull thud as the jar was filled. I used to squat on the floor in
front of the jar and admire the copper and silver circles that
glinted like a pirate's treasure when the sun poured through the
bedroom window. When the jar was filled, Dad would sit at the
kitchen table and roll the coins before taking them to the bank.
Taking the coins to the bank was always a big production. Stacked
neatly in a small cardboard box, the coins were placed between Dad
and me on the seat of his old truck. Each and every time, as we
drove to the bank, Dad would look at me hopefully. "Those coins are
going to keep you out of the textile mill, son. You're going to do
better than me. This old mill town's not going to hold you back."
Also, each and every time, as he slid the box of rolled coins
across the counter at the bank toward the cashier, he would grin
proudly. "These are for my son's college fund. He'll never work in
the mill.
We would always celebrate each deposit by stopping for an ice cream
cone. I always got chocolate. Dad always got vanilla. When the
clerk at the ice cream parlour handed Dad his change, he would show
me the few coins nestled in his palm. "When we get home, we'll
start filling the jar again." He always let me drop the first coins
into the empty jar. As they rattled around with a brief, happy
jingle, we grinned at each other. You'll get to college on pennies,
nickels, dimes and quarters," he said. "But you'll get there. I'll
see to that."
The years passed, and I finished college and took a job in another
town. Once, while visiting my parents, I used the phone in their
bedroom, and noticed that the pickle jar was gone. It had served
its purpose and had been removed. A lump rose in my throat as I
stared at the spot beside the dresser where the jar had always
stood. My dad was a man of few words, and never lectured me on the
values of determination, perseverance, and faith. The pickle jar
had taught me all these virtues far more eloquently than the most
flowery of words could have done. When I married, I told my wife
Susan about the significant part the lowly pickle jar had played in
my life as a boy. In my mind, it defined, more than anything else,
how much my dad had loved me.
No matter how rough things got at home, Dad continued to doggedly
drop his coins into the jar. Even the summer when Dad got laid off
from the mill, and Mama had to serve dried beans several times a
week, not a single dime was taken from the jar. To the contrary, as
Dad looked across the table at me, pouring catsup over my beans to
make them more palatable, he became more determined than ever to
make a way out for me. "When you finish college, Son," he told me,
his eyes glistening, "You'll never have to eat beans again...unless
you want to."
The first Christmas after our daughter Jessica was born; we spent
the holiday with my parents. After dinner Mom and Dad sat next to
each other on the sofa, taking turns cuddling their first
grandchild. Jessica began to whimper softly, and Susan took her
from Dad's arms. "She probably needs to be changed," she said,
carrying the baby into my parents' bedroom to diaper her.
When Susan came back into the living room, there was a strange mist
in her eyes. She handed Jessica back to Dad before taking my hand
and leading me into the room. "Look," she said softly, her eyes
directing me to a spot on the floor beside the dresser. To my
amazement, there, as if it had never been removed, stood the old
pickle jar, the bottom already covered with coins. I walked over to
the pickle jar, dug down into my pocket, and pulled out a fistful
of coins. With a gamut of emotions choking me, I dropped the coins
into the jar. I looked up and saw that Dad, carrying Jessica, had
slipped quietly into the room. Our eyes locked, and I knew he was
feeling the same emotions I felt. Neither one of us could speak.
This truly touched my heart.
Sometimes we are so busy adding up our troubles that we forget to
count our blessings. Never underestimate the power of your actions.
With one small gesture you can change a person's life, for better
or for worse.
"The best and most beautiful things cannot be seen or touched -
they must be felt with the heart." ~ Helen Keller
Thursday, June 17, 2004
I think the word -disgusted- fits how I feel right now
Currently Listening To: A Perfect Circle-The Package
So I'm not going to get into why I feel disgusted right now, because apparently when I express my opinions on things I seem to get other people into trouble. Don't ask me how that works, considering if it's my opinion it should be me who would get into trouble. And even then it would be stupid to get me into trouble for it, because it would be my own opinion. Sometimes I just don't get how some peoples minds work. But anyways, I'm not going to get into any details. Other than I'm sorry to the person who's getting in trouble for what I say. No matter what she knows that I still love her, even if everyone else doesn't like me.
Today after my Politics exam I went over to Lil Amanda's house and we sat and talked, studied, listened to music and then went to her Grandmas house because Amandas house was going to have a showing at 2 oclock. Her Grandmas house is really close to the mall, so we went over and browsed for a bit. I bought some pins for my bag and two c.d's: Finger Eleven-Self Titled and A Perfect Circle-Thirteenth Step. Amazing C.D.'s, glad I finally had the balls to spend the bucks to buy them. I also bought a poster for Lil Amanda, but I owe her money anyways, from all the times shes bought me drinks and pretzels from the vending machines at school. She was very happy, let me tell you. She couldn't stop hugging me.
So my rooms a huge mess, and I really don't feel like cleaning it. Plus I don't have Kelly here anymore to keep me going. I just feel like letting it sit the same way it is all summer like I did last summer. Of course I don't think I'll do that again. I know that if I take my pills regularily and like I'm supposed to I'll have enough oomph to do more things.
Malcolm and Oliver are doing great and getting along again. I didnt see them doing it, but apparently they were really close to each other today, to the point where Oliver was licking Malcolms head. I knew they would get along eventually, considering they got along just fine when they were at the shelter. Now there's just the problem of getting Malcolm and Cleo to be friends. I think even Oliver and Cleo are getting to the point where they are willing to put up with each other. I mean Cleo had gotten over the fact that Oliver was there, but she worked Oliver up to the point where he was over the edge and started growling at her. Then it started all over again. Apparently they're good today though. Thank god. I like it when things start to work themselves out.
Well, wish me luck on my exam tomorrow. I have an art exam, and I have to memorize all the architectural periods. I know that for sure Ill be able to remember the Gothic period, considering the architecture was gorgeous, and I was at school most of the time when we worked on that chapter. I wonder what I got on my last painting I did. Hopefully as well as my first painting. I think it was 88% that I received. I should post a picture of them when I get my second one back. Show you guys how neat I think they look. I know I won't fail the class, I had a 91% in it, so even if I fail the exam it won't go down by much.
"Not to pull your halo down, around your neck and tug you down..."
So I'm not going to get into why I feel disgusted right now, because apparently when I express my opinions on things I seem to get other people into trouble. Don't ask me how that works, considering if it's my opinion it should be me who would get into trouble. And even then it would be stupid to get me into trouble for it, because it would be my own opinion. Sometimes I just don't get how some peoples minds work. But anyways, I'm not going to get into any details. Other than I'm sorry to the person who's getting in trouble for what I say. No matter what she knows that I still love her, even if everyone else doesn't like me.
Today after my Politics exam I went over to Lil Amanda's house and we sat and talked, studied, listened to music and then went to her Grandmas house because Amandas house was going to have a showing at 2 oclock. Her Grandmas house is really close to the mall, so we went over and browsed for a bit. I bought some pins for my bag and two c.d's: Finger Eleven-Self Titled and A Perfect Circle-Thirteenth Step. Amazing C.D.'s, glad I finally had the balls to spend the bucks to buy them. I also bought a poster for Lil Amanda, but I owe her money anyways, from all the times shes bought me drinks and pretzels from the vending machines at school. She was very happy, let me tell you. She couldn't stop hugging me.
So my rooms a huge mess, and I really don't feel like cleaning it. Plus I don't have Kelly here anymore to keep me going. I just feel like letting it sit the same way it is all summer like I did last summer. Of course I don't think I'll do that again. I know that if I take my pills regularily and like I'm supposed to I'll have enough oomph to do more things.
Malcolm and Oliver are doing great and getting along again. I didnt see them doing it, but apparently they were really close to each other today, to the point where Oliver was licking Malcolms head. I knew they would get along eventually, considering they got along just fine when they were at the shelter. Now there's just the problem of getting Malcolm and Cleo to be friends. I think even Oliver and Cleo are getting to the point where they are willing to put up with each other. I mean Cleo had gotten over the fact that Oliver was there, but she worked Oliver up to the point where he was over the edge and started growling at her. Then it started all over again. Apparently they're good today though. Thank god. I like it when things start to work themselves out.
Well, wish me luck on my exam tomorrow. I have an art exam, and I have to memorize all the architectural periods. I know that for sure Ill be able to remember the Gothic period, considering the architecture was gorgeous, and I was at school most of the time when we worked on that chapter. I wonder what I got on my last painting I did. Hopefully as well as my first painting. I think it was 88% that I received. I should post a picture of them when I get my second one back. Show you guys how neat I think they look. I know I won't fail the class, I had a 91% in it, so even if I fail the exam it won't go down by much.
"Not to pull your halo down, around your neck and tug you down..."
Tuesday, June 15, 2004
And I knew, that you ment it
Currently Listening To: Our Lady Peace- Superman's Dead
Well, today was officially my last day of high school before exams. It's only just hitting me now that I'll be moving into my own apartment in August, and going to University in a strage town. Help? I feel scared and excited at the same time. I know things'll go just fine. And I mean it's not like I'll be living alone, Kelly is going to be my roommate. So I don't know what I'm so worried about.
I'm scared that my program is going to be too hard, and I'm going to go and get discouraged easily. I mean, I'm not going to drop out, I would never do that, but I'm scared of getting aweful marks. I'm not used to bad marks, so it kind of scares me to know that when you hit University and College your marks drop almost ten percent. Right now I'm an average of 70-79% student. So I really don't want that to drop any lower than it already is. I'm thinking that because doing this is going to be really important, it'll make me try harder and possibly I'll acheive better than what I've been getting in the past few years of high school. I used to be a straight A student in elementary school. I guess things just change as you get older.
Well, today was officially my last day of high school before exams. It's only just hitting me now that I'll be moving into my own apartment in August, and going to University in a strage town. Help? I feel scared and excited at the same time. I know things'll go just fine. And I mean it's not like I'll be living alone, Kelly is going to be my roommate. So I don't know what I'm so worried about.
I'm scared that my program is going to be too hard, and I'm going to go and get discouraged easily. I mean, I'm not going to drop out, I would never do that, but I'm scared of getting aweful marks. I'm not used to bad marks, so it kind of scares me to know that when you hit University and College your marks drop almost ten percent. Right now I'm an average of 70-79% student. So I really don't want that to drop any lower than it already is. I'm thinking that because doing this is going to be really important, it'll make me try harder and possibly I'll acheive better than what I've been getting in the past few years of high school. I used to be a straight A student in elementary school. I guess things just change as you get older.
When Angels Cry Blood
Currently Listening To: HIM-(Acoustic)-Funeral Of Hearts
Yesterday we went and picked up two kitties from the Shelter Of Hope, the place Kelly and I have started volunteering at lately. The one kitty is going to be mine and Kelly's. His name is Malcolm, and hes a black short hair. They think hes about 3 years old, and hes very muscular. But he's scruffy and has a doggied ear. He must have been an outdoor cat and a scrapper. Plus he isn't declawed nor is he fixed.
The second cat is Oliver. Matthew named him even before we took him home. They hadn't named him yet. He's orange and white, big, and 3 years old. Very passive, and pliable. (Inside joke :P)
This morning around 5ish I could hear Malcolm and Oliver fighting. Mom got to them before I did, and found Malcolm on top of Oliver, biting his side. We had to separate them again. Malcolm's been hiding a lot. He mostly spends his time under the stairs, and we think he has been peeing in other places than the litter box.
However only an hour ago or so Matthew was able to clear out under the stairs, and we fished out Malcolm. It was quite the chase but I got him. It took brushing him to calm him down. I've got him in my room now, I know he's in here because I made sure I closed the door, but I can't seem to find him. I brought a fresh litter box in here, and some food and water. So I hope separating him from Oliver (Who spent the night in my room last night) will make things better until everyone can calm down.
Poor Cleo, I think she's going to have a heartattack though. We've had her for about five years now, and shes really protective of the house. When she saw Malcolm(remember, the scrapper?) she started hitting him and hissing. Poor Malcolm backed away scared! *shakes her head* Cleo has been quite the bitch to the other two. Hopefully things will be better in a few days. Otherwise Moms thinking of getting rid of Oliver, cause she doesn't want to have to put him through this anymore. He's a basket case. Oi.
Yesterday we went and picked up two kitties from the Shelter Of Hope, the place Kelly and I have started volunteering at lately. The one kitty is going to be mine and Kelly's. His name is Malcolm, and hes a black short hair. They think hes about 3 years old, and hes very muscular. But he's scruffy and has a doggied ear. He must have been an outdoor cat and a scrapper. Plus he isn't declawed nor is he fixed.
The second cat is Oliver. Matthew named him even before we took him home. They hadn't named him yet. He's orange and white, big, and 3 years old. Very passive, and pliable. (Inside joke :P)
This morning around 5ish I could hear Malcolm and Oliver fighting. Mom got to them before I did, and found Malcolm on top of Oliver, biting his side. We had to separate them again. Malcolm's been hiding a lot. He mostly spends his time under the stairs, and we think he has been peeing in other places than the litter box.
However only an hour ago or so Matthew was able to clear out under the stairs, and we fished out Malcolm. It was quite the chase but I got him. It took brushing him to calm him down. I've got him in my room now, I know he's in here because I made sure I closed the door, but I can't seem to find him. I brought a fresh litter box in here, and some food and water. So I hope separating him from Oliver (Who spent the night in my room last night) will make things better until everyone can calm down.
Poor Cleo, I think she's going to have a heartattack though. We've had her for about five years now, and shes really protective of the house. When she saw Malcolm(remember, the scrapper?) she started hitting him and hissing. Poor Malcolm backed away scared! *shakes her head* Cleo has been quite the bitch to the other two. Hopefully things will be better in a few days. Otherwise Moms thinking of getting rid of Oliver, cause she doesn't want to have to put him through this anymore. He's a basket case. Oi.
Friday, June 11, 2004
Tuesday, June 01, 2004
You will never belong to me
Currently Listening To: Chevelle-Closure
Well today was interesting, and yet absolutely boring. (But it went by really fast!) I decided to stay home, yet again, but this time to work on and ISU for politics class. (Don't tell me Mum, but Matthew came home from school today and told me that the Vice Principle was inquiring about me, and told him to tell me that I should go to school more often!) I haven't quite gotten it finished yet. It'll only take me about another hour or so to finish though. And considering I have been working on it since about 11am this morning, and didn't break until about 4 or 5 this afternoon... I think I'm doing pretty good!
I had a religion ISU that was due on Monday, but I had forgotten about it, and still hadn't come up with a topic come Monday morning. So I went home early and worked on it last night. I emailed it to myself, thinking, of course, that I would be at school tomorrow to print it out and hand it in a day late. I woke up this morning, however, and in my sleepy stupor remembered that the printer at school is not working, and I didn't want to have to turn on Mums computer to print it out here at home. I also remembered that my ISU for politics was due today, so I decided to roll over and go back to sleep for another couple of hours and spend the day working on my newspaper ISU. Which I did! Don't hate me because I am so awful when it comes to getting up in the morning to go to school.
My manager at Pizza Hut is officially gone, and we now have one of the old managers back, from before my time, but from my Dad's time when he started. He told me that Leslie was actually the girl that hired him. Pretty neat actually. But anyways, everyone tells me she is quite the snobby, strict bitch. Which doesn't help any at all, now does it? Well last night I got to meet her, (I finally got to serve again!! Be proud damnit), and she isn't that bad. Aside from being really quiet, and down to business she doesn't seem that bad. Jamie thinks that maybe it's because she's just changed, and maybe things will be different. I'm not so sure about that. I think that she's just getting her bearings and sooner or later she'll revert to herself again.
Leslie asked Jamie who she thought would be best suited to be a supervisor, and Jamie said she gave her my name! I think that's great. When Fez asked me to be Shift Manager a month back or whatever it was, I said no, obviously because I can't handle two or three 12 hour shifts in a week when I have school. But now that I only have like two and a half weeks of school left I can definitely handle that and then some during the week in the summer time. If Leslie asks me I'm going to say yes, I'm going to let her know that I'll take the position now, but I won't be able to take on too many twelve hour shifts when I have school during the week. Maybe I'll just take on a bunch of serving shifts during the week until then. (But I'm not getting my hopes up (yes I am!) so much for that).
Oh my, I just had some vanilla ice cream that's been in the freezer for awhile now, so I decided to heat up the squeeze bottle of chocolate topping sauce. MMmmm now that's good stuff! Of course I'm never going to get to sleep now, as I'll be full of sugar. I'm thinking I should take my pills right now before I forget and maybe they'll kick in at a decent hour and I'll get a few hours sleep before I have to get up for school in the morning. Doh!
So tomorrow is a dress down day at my wonderful uniform school. I'm going to wear the dress I bought in Stratford! I told Brynn when I phoned him to dress all spiffy like as well, so I don't feel too out of place. Not that it will matter because I'll feel very sexay as it will be. Now I'm just struggling over whether I should wear my Doc Martens or my leather sandals. Hmmm, decisions, decisions. ;)
Well thats all folks. Have a good one!
Well today was interesting, and yet absolutely boring. (But it went by really fast!) I decided to stay home, yet again, but this time to work on and ISU for politics class. (Don't tell me Mum, but Matthew came home from school today and told me that the Vice Principle was inquiring about me, and told him to tell me that I should go to school more often!) I haven't quite gotten it finished yet. It'll only take me about another hour or so to finish though. And considering I have been working on it since about 11am this morning, and didn't break until about 4 or 5 this afternoon... I think I'm doing pretty good!
I had a religion ISU that was due on Monday, but I had forgotten about it, and still hadn't come up with a topic come Monday morning. So I went home early and worked on it last night. I emailed it to myself, thinking, of course, that I would be at school tomorrow to print it out and hand it in a day late. I woke up this morning, however, and in my sleepy stupor remembered that the printer at school is not working, and I didn't want to have to turn on Mums computer to print it out here at home. I also remembered that my ISU for politics was due today, so I decided to roll over and go back to sleep for another couple of hours and spend the day working on my newspaper ISU. Which I did! Don't hate me because I am so awful when it comes to getting up in the morning to go to school.
My manager at Pizza Hut is officially gone, and we now have one of the old managers back, from before my time, but from my Dad's time when he started. He told me that Leslie was actually the girl that hired him. Pretty neat actually. But anyways, everyone tells me she is quite the snobby, strict bitch. Which doesn't help any at all, now does it? Well last night I got to meet her, (I finally got to serve again!! Be proud damnit), and she isn't that bad. Aside from being really quiet, and down to business she doesn't seem that bad. Jamie thinks that maybe it's because she's just changed, and maybe things will be different. I'm not so sure about that. I think that she's just getting her bearings and sooner or later she'll revert to herself again.
Leslie asked Jamie who she thought would be best suited to be a supervisor, and Jamie said she gave her my name! I think that's great. When Fez asked me to be Shift Manager a month back or whatever it was, I said no, obviously because I can't handle two or three 12 hour shifts in a week when I have school. But now that I only have like two and a half weeks of school left I can definitely handle that and then some during the week in the summer time. If Leslie asks me I'm going to say yes, I'm going to let her know that I'll take the position now, but I won't be able to take on too many twelve hour shifts when I have school during the week. Maybe I'll just take on a bunch of serving shifts during the week until then. (But I'm not getting my hopes up (yes I am!) so much for that).
Oh my, I just had some vanilla ice cream that's been in the freezer for awhile now, so I decided to heat up the squeeze bottle of chocolate topping sauce. MMmmm now that's good stuff! Of course I'm never going to get to sleep now, as I'll be full of sugar. I'm thinking I should take my pills right now before I forget and maybe they'll kick in at a decent hour and I'll get a few hours sleep before I have to get up for school in the morning. Doh!
So tomorrow is a dress down day at my wonderful uniform school. I'm going to wear the dress I bought in Stratford! I told Brynn when I phoned him to dress all spiffy like as well, so I don't feel too out of place. Not that it will matter because I'll feel very sexay as it will be. Now I'm just struggling over whether I should wear my Doc Martens or my leather sandals. Hmmm, decisions, decisions. ;)
Well thats all folks. Have a good one!
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