I bought my first-ever item of official UofR clothing today: a burgundy (not at all a school colour) fuzzy zip-up bunnyhug. It's awesome. And "retro". (I hate that word. But that's the best word I can come up with.)
So, the other day, Ky and I were reminiscing about our old days of wearing crazy 70s clothes from Value Village. I realised that much of my grade 12 wardrobe I wouldn't have the courage to wear now, because I'd feel like a poseur. (Is that spelled properly? I've never been able to spell it.) These days, actual hipster-types wear some of the things we used to wear. And now I feel obligated to make fun of it, if Chloe Sevigny is wearing it. Does that make sense? I need to find a new nonconformity. It was far too fun being the hippie girl who wore fuschia to grad the year that everyone wore black/navy/pale blue/forest green. (And for that brief moment, I was the forerunner of the next few years of grad fashions. By Chris's sister's grad four years later, it was a rainbow.)
Am I scattered about or what tonight? I've had a rather uneventful evening compared to the day I had.
My day: alarm went off before 7am. I was up by 7:30, had a shower, had a meeting with Dr. B at 9am. I was early for the meeting. I didn't even think of speeding. After the meeting (it went well, but now I have 2 more weeks' worth of work to do -- all research/secondary source stuff) I worked in the library until my 1:30 Girls' Group, minus a half an hour of buying a shirt and eating lunch.
After I got home: well, I ate supper. Oh wait, I just added an item to my gift registry. Yay, an accomplishment, however tiny.
That's been my day. I was pretty tired once I got home, and then I felt less like getting things accomplished after I felt wonkified from supper (apparently, if you don't refrigerate curry paste after opening it, it ages and gets hotter and hotter; we added less curry paste than last time, and it was so hot that I could barely eat it and my face was all red). (We added soy sauce and that diluted it somewhat.)
I must confess: twice in my life I've attempted to make curry. (Meg made it when we opened the curry paste jar). Both times I've failed. I'll get you yet, curried chicken! I'll get yoooou yet! (My first attempt -- curry turkey, actually -- was a resounding failure. Like, my brother and I ended up dumping it all in the garbage. And I followed the recipe precisely. Look out for the Company's Coming curry turkey.)
I've rambled enough.
Summary: My day was good; my evening, lazy.