I have quite a few books on my bookshelf. I’m not pleased – in fact I’m slightly embarrassed to say – that the biggest set on there is the Laurell K. Hamilton Anita Blake, Vampire Hunter series which resulted from a stint/binge from a couple years ago.

Yeah, I know.

If you’ve every read her, you’ll understand what I mean. They embody everything vampires probably are and what the Twilight series avoided for the trilogy and then for the +1 suddenly decide to embrace it (going to the repercussions angle): sex.

So when my mother comes in today to grab a book to read while overseeing my brother’s piano practice, the one book she would obviously choose is Micah, the 50-page fluff novel that happens not only happens to be one of the series also happens to also read like porn without pictures.

I don’t even remember why I got it. In fact, I don’t even know why the lady wrote it. And any other book from the series would have been better since they have tiny font, are long, and actually has the occasional sighting of the bunny called plot. In translation, this means mother would have given up before she got very far.

But Micah, well, Micah gets its own genre…

Naturally, flustered and not eager to let my own mother read a book like that to practice her English, I quickly asked where my copy of Howl’s Moving Castle was.

It was a really close shave.

I haven’t worn glasses in a really long time so last night when I didn’t wear my contacts, I knew I would be wearing my semi-new frames today. And since there was no time crunch in getting up and running out the door to school, I took my sweet time crawling out of bed (around 11am) and taking a loooong shower and actually using colored eye shadow.

All in all, though, today was on the very borning side. My bother had a small birthday party–he’s turning twelve on Monday. I think he stole all my height genes, since he’s 6 years younger and at least 3 inches taller. He amuses me though, with his perpetual panda-bear google eyes from swimming all the time.

He’s a brat.

On other musings though, I really had impatient people who when they have nothing better to do, start honking their horn. I know I suck at driving (to some extent) since it’s only my 5th time on the road, but when there’s a fucking bus on my left and I’m trying to turn and I can’t see traffic, I am not going to rush out no matter how many times you serenade me with your horn, bitch. There’s nothing attractive about your bottle-blond hair and perpetually sounding like a car alarm just makes me want to block your way all the longer.