I have relearned why I hate shopping...
Well, clothes shopping anyway. Shopping for books is a whole different story. Anyway, I bought some new clothes today. Ugh. The first store I went to had some great jeans in my size... but in short. I SO can't wear short. Medium is like an inch too short. I need tall, dammit! They had no tall. I was pissed. (I consoled myself by buying comics.) So I went to the mall. Hit some stores, found some stuff. Like, three hours of dressing room hell and all I end up with are a pair of jeans and two shirts plus some odds and ends. Yea, that did suckith mightly.
is just getting creepier and creepier. What is it with British authors, does all that rain and mist rot their brain so it turns all horror-y? Nah, I'm just messin' wit ya, GNeil's cool. (And I still have this horrible urge to do a crossover with Harry Potter.) Interesting listening to the author read it, too. Books you read and books that are read to you have a whole different style. Like, it's the same food, but it's prepared differently. Like, bacon and pork chops are both good and are both from pigs, but they're totally different. Like that. Or something. I'm rambling now. I think I'll shut up.