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Saturday 7 October 2006

Like Sands through the Hourglass

I'm possibly starting to lose it. It's possible. Most of the pretty autumn leaves have now blown off the trees and all I see before me is dark, dark despair. But to keep my mind off that I will write about the things I have been enjoying lately.

These are in no particular order, but let's start on the hygiene front. This way maybe I will be better about remembering to attend to such things rather than staying in bed muttering words like "There's no point, anyway . . . ":

I love me some Cetaphil. I use the cleanser and the moisturizer. My skin loves them too. With their help I have mostly managed to dodge the "moving to a new climate" bullet that loves to wreak havoc with my face. I say mostly because I did in fact have a chin zit so large and persistent that it actually made my head tilt to one side if I wasn't careful.

For my 27th birthday I asked for anti-aging eye cream, which my sweet mother (the Mary Kay sales rep) gave me. I use it faithfully now in the hope that I will not turn into a wizened crone before my time--at least not on the outside.


Please say hello to "Honey I Washed the Kids" soap by Lush. I bought it back in England ages ago and finally started using it last week. (Note: I did use other soaps during the interim.) It's pretty much a honey & toffee-scented slice of heaven. If I were 7 years old I would probably say cuss words on purpose to get my mouth washed out with this stuff. I have to make it last because it costs something shockinawful like $8 a bar here in the States.

Oh, how I missed my Nutty Bars. Little Debbie is my friend. I like to separate the layers and eat them one by one. That is the true way, I feel, to eat a Nutty Bar. Although I did just see my dad smash one up in a bowl of chocolate ice cream, which also looks valid. Will have to try that when my parents get back from the grocery store bearing foodstuffs. They are also bringing me Hunts Snack Packs of chocolate pudding. My love for pudding packs caused me no end of confusion when I got to England where suddenly people referred to nearly any dessert as pudding.

British Friend #1: "So what's for pudding, then?"

Nemesis: "Yay, I love pudding! You have pudding here??"

British Friend #2: "Yes, it's apple pie with custard, me duck."

British Friend #1: "Ooooh, lovely. Can I have mine warm?"

Nemesis: Brain implodes

(Note: They don't have chocolate pudding in England. So don't even ask.)



Thanks to the good people at Blockbuster Video we have been watching the first season of House this week. Now that handsome devil Dr. House and his beautiful blue eyes have me even deeper in his thrall. He was in my dream last night, where he struggled valiantly to hide his feelings for me, because that is his way.

Also, after watching all the episodes at once I now have a deep and abiding fear of lumbar punctures. And MRIs. Because nothing good comes from those things, I can tell you.

We're now waiting anxiously for someone to turn in the second season so we can check it out. Even though I appreciate them for supplying me with House, those Blockbuster people are nonetheless on my crap list for not having Cold Comfort Farm so that I can introduce my mom to the joys of seeing something nasty in the woodshed.

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