It's raining
It's pouring
The old man is snoring.
I like pretty books.
Well, I enjoy books in general. I 'liberated' the first book of English poetry from a dusty shelf in classroom - no one will miss it - and, I think, it is one of the prettiest books I own. Both books are Penguin, the way they produce their books is wonderful, the covers are always so classic. They're one of my favorite publishers (Faber is another), and yes, I have favorite publishers, and record companies for that matter; what does that say about me? The second is Ariel by André Maurois. I have absolutely no idea what the novel is about or anything about the writer, but the cover was so pretty and the first couple sentences were so good that I had to get it. I couldn't possibly have left it alone on the shelf with all the other unloved books! Anyways, it was only five dollars.
I felt silly, and painted my nails blue. I told my sister I could paint my toes red, nails blue and I'd be white, so it was like the British flag. After I'd said it I realized how absolutely ridiculous it sounded.
It's been raining nonstop since Monday. The sky is grey, the air cold, and I think I'm the only one enjoying this less than seasonal May weather. I pulled out my ugliest second hand sweater and curled up with a cup of tea and books.
The other day, my mother told me I didn't wear pants often enough - I hardly ever wear pants, this was the first time in at least a month - and the told me that she insisted upon taking me shopping for new ones. Now, it's not that I object to shopping, but I fail to see how it is any of her business whether or not I choose to wear pants! I told her I would wear what I pleased. And, a couple days later when I saw fit, I rolled up the cuffs of one of my two pairs of jeans and wore them out.
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