Ha ha, so after all that about my parents giving boring gifts and my sister giving crazy gifts, my sister got me some books and my parents got me a bag full of crazy shit. My sister got me a john updike book whose name I can't remember, God Bless You, Mr. Rosewater, which is nearly the only vonnegut I haven't yet read, and a book of Lovecraft I didn't have, so ace job on the new-to-me book picking. The updike is my first U book, filling in an important spot in my stupid scheme to have fiction for every letter of the alphabet. Now I need E, I, X, and Y. Damn you, vowels. I didn't have any O for a while either, but now I have a scott o'dell book. X is going to be tricky, since I don't want books I don't like, and I haven't ever read any X books. Actually there's probably someone who starts with X in my anthology of greek philosophers, but that's in the non-fiction section. At least Q is taken care of.

I think I'll need another new bookcase. Having carefully left room for new arrivals when I unpacked, I've now already had to annex part of my lonely non-fiction tower because the 3 fiction cases are jammed full. I went to ANOTHER bookshop on friday. White Dwarf, the sci-fi/fantasy-only book shop, has apparently moved right next to the restaurant where my parents took me for dinner.

Ah yes, my parents. I got a yoga mat to lift weights on, a pair of yellow gardening clogs !!!!!, a set of magnets that look like cat asses (eww. I had them on the fridge for about an hour, but they put me off my lunch.), a set of magnetic poetry magnets (shakespeare edition - now the dirty poems my friends write on the fridge will be archaic dirty poems. you knotgrass maiden!), and some dainty notecards. The clogs were the wrong size, so I have to wait while mum finds the right size, but then, oh man, welcome to the clog age, part 2. I think the last time I had yellow clogs was for when I graduated highschool lo these 7 years ago.

And I got myself a birthday present: a guitar. WHEE! Red squier stratocaster. Baby. And a cute little amp that I can carry on the bus (after refusing 2 or 3 offers from boy's family for slightly.. larger ones.) It's so awesome. I am slightly scornful of rock stars now that I know that all their rock starness is achievable by anyone with a GAIN knob. Hahaha, dear neighbours, sorry in advance. Boy's brother taught me how to coil my patch cable and how to play WELCOME TO MY CASTLE, so I'm pretty much ready for my world-wide tour now.

Uh.. maybe.

The sasquatch and me! Ate berries for free!