So here I go - I know this feeling awfully well. I could build a camera custom-made to tape record the smell of the perfume that we used to share until you spilled it on the floor. What more could anybody ask for? I remember you - Polaroid. The glitter and the glue - all that noise. I should probably sort've miss you, but I see you all the time - Polaroid.
I’m listening to Yoshiki’s Amethyst, which is currently my favorite instrumental piece, having recently beat out Subaru’s image song in a dragged-out catfight, during which Mozart attempted to powder Beethoven’s nose, but ended up with a bleeding nose instead. Ferreal. Anyway, since Amethyst has no vocals the lyrics above are from Nina Gordon’s Number One Camera.
So today I finally got a vital piece of information that I’ve been hunting for days and I am oh-so-happy. Like anyone who has come across a good thing, I am going to hoard this precious little bit until it galls me, and then I shall bury it deep in a hole but think of it constantly, and dig it up at least every hour to look upon it. Preciousssss...
So, which do you want to hear? The funny story or the serious, in-depth analysis of myself (for, as you know, I am required by federal law to do those at least once a month) and my surrounding enviroment?
Be right back. Daddy just got home, and as a Daddy’s girl, I must run and say hello.
Why is it that being a Daddy’s girl just means I have to put the groceries away? Well, at least Dad only buys a few groceries at a time. It takes less than a minute. Anyway, the Spi has declared today to be a day for the funny story, so here we go.
Yesterday was Mother’s Day. Before the family came home for a good ol’ fashioned food stuffing, my Dad agreed to let me go drive for an hour. So we hopped into Donatello (my silver ’99 Corolla, for those of you who haven’t been keeping tabs) and I drove around Alamaden Valley for an hour. We practiced my ability to do courts and cul-de-sacs, and I progressed pretty well, so I was pleased. My old habit of using the wrong turn signal keeps flaring up, though, and that’s bad. And Dad thought I got a little close to some of the parked cars (hey, three inches clearance is plenty!) so he worried about that. But other than that, it was a good drive ‘til we got home. I pulled into our driveway (which is at a slant, maybe twenty degrees...) really crooked, so I wanted to pull out and try again. I forgot to take my foot completely off the gas, however, as I switched from ‘drive’ to ‘park’ to ‘reverse’ in about three seconds. We went slamming out of the driveway, practically into the driveway of the house opposite ours. >_<; My daddy darn near had a heart attack, and kept exclaiming “What if a car had been coming??? We’d be DEAD!!!” etc. etc. etc. Hee. Oops! So then I had to go and park it, but the car is still really crooked. Oh well. I’ll get it down eventually.
Up, up and away in my beautiful cliché. I have wasted too much precious time pretending I’m o.k. I better get out of the kitchen next time when I can not stand the heat; my feet were colder than the Hebrides.

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Lest I forget...Plushenko. Exactly one month ago to the day, no less.