I worked with Little Katie today, and read her abridged versions of Disney stories. The short book versions bother me because they would be useless at storytelling if the reader hadn't heard the whole story or rather watched the movie before. In effect, the book is sort of a commercial. I can see Little Katie asking her dad to watch Peter Pan right now.
She is finally 11. She's been waiting about 11 months and 30 days to be able to say that.
I'm going to work at the Sunroom in two hours. I am less than excited.
I have to decide what to do for my birthday with Frank. This is rather a strange year for me, given that I will spend my birthday proper on a plane. The day before my biirthday, I am going to West Bend to get my travel companions and my shit together and ready for my mom to drive us to the airport. Thus, I will have to celebrate turning 22 when I am still solidly 21.
Frank had proposed going to Chuck E. Cheese. However, due to the fact that I am not the size of an 8 year old, most of the fun stuff (i.e. the balls, the bouncy trampoline thing, etc) is off-limits to me, and I don't even remember their pizza being any good. Bar-hopping is an option, but that would be more fun with homies, about half of whom would not be interested in drinking. Also, my body is still recovering from the 4th, even though i didn't even drink that much. Frank thinks I might have been very close to alcohol poisoning. Hmmm...dinner and ice cream cake. Well, I'm not sure how tomorrow will be spent.
My birthday proper, however, will be spent doing the following: sleeping, reading Punk Planet and Bitch Magazine, Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets, and Salman Rushdie's Midnight's Children, listening to the mix CD Frank is making for me, standing in lines to be interrogated by airport security, being on a hijacked plnae, dying, you know, all that fun stuff. Actually, I am misrepresenting myself; I'm really not that anxious about our flight. I'm just anxious and self-deprecating and cynical most of the time.
Well, I'm off to shower. No one wants to tip a stinky waitress.