French poems to memorize, a significant person in my life to write about, problems in the economy to learn about, and colleges to pick. While all this goes on... inside my head I'm actually feeling far away. My poor Singer is terribly underutilized, my novel is horribly under-read, and the sunlight is heart-breakingly brief, but not under-enjoyed.
A new album, Andrew Bird & The Mysterious Production of Eggs, has been found. I really love the album cover. It inspires me in a silly way.
I also feel like baking more. The muffins I made were just the beginning. I realize that I know how to make very little, without calling up my mom to ask what such-and-such means or how exactly to do so-and-so. And since my mom and I can't eat every delicious thing I plan on making, maybe my friends will start receiving surprise edible gifts.

It's ridiculously cold in my house right now.