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Elmo sings the chicken dance song. I was just telling someone "oh how I wish my stomach didn't feel like it was about to explode". Damn. This is no time to be feeling under the weather. I have a wicked busy weekend and then next week is the week. The big birthday week. I wish people got as excited about their birthdays as I get with mine. Or, maybe it's because I'm just a huge kid at heart who loves the celebration part. Or, in more realistic ideas - maybe it's just that the day is about me.Maybe it's my stress though. I kinda came to the realization the other day that I have 75 days to pull off a fantastically huge event. Something I am incredibly worried about. Then there is the anxiousness of waiting for my official acceptance letter from the University. The perils of budgeting my money so I have enough to, maybe, fill up my car. And of course the everyday rumblings that is life. Life can be such a puzzle. Sometimes it feels like I just put the last piece of the puzzle in - and then others it feels like someone wiped the puzzle off the table, only for me to pick up the pieces and begin again. In a complete random daze, I was looking at my bookshelf last night. My poor fish Beta is still hanging out in his bowl.. swimming around looking at the new scenery each time he circles the tank. My recently replaced picture frames now hold snaps of Lindsay and I at our bday last year, and me in front of the Circus Maximus in Rome. I have some little trinkets including a rock my grandma pasted old stamps to, jewelry cases with nothing but dust in them, portfolio bulging with newspaper snippets, Italy container stocked full of Italian newspapers, pictures, bus passes, maps and other small mementos, - and books. Lots and lots of books. And that got me thinking. Why the truck do I have so many books. It's not like I sit down and crack them open. Aaron is still giving me sass over a book we were going to read together last year called Nanocasm. Oops. (one day... ) I buy the books thinking I am going to actually going to sit down and enjoy it word by word, that I am going to make myself that much more intellectual with the verbage and the history and that I will have a wicked conversation piece. But then I realize that I haven't done anything like that - I haven't accomplished any of those books. A sample of my bookshelf: The Secret Mulroney Tapes - Peter C. Newman Here Be Dragons - Peter C. Newman Against the Grain - Catherine Ford The Chicago Manual of Style Lonely Planet's Guide to Italy My Life - Bill Clinton Generation X - Douglas Coupland And then I realized I have spent a buttload on books which I have never read. I might've read the first two pages in the majority of them, but in Clintons case I read the first 100 pages. So what does this say about me? Probably that I'm a slacker. Or maybe it is as simple as "the books I read are boring. I need something new, exciting, riviting, so spellbounding that it's orgasmic. Heh. Posted by Bella at 7:13 AM# 2 Comments: Here's a thought... Actually FINISH reading the Harry Potter books you used to be so excited about... By If I had a party I would have invited you. Next year... By
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