or a tongue full of sympathy

my room is starting to look like a pigsty.

and i have developed a bad habit of chucking things on the floor beside my bed. although, it's amazing how it's all bundled at one spot, yes?

everything is illuminated by jonathan safran foer (which i finished this morning! i love foer. i do. i really do) and lolita by vladimir nabokov (still in the process of reading) and though you can't see it, the jane austen book club is under there somewhere (waste of time).

bags, my mp3 player (i'm horrible to put it on the floor, but it's hardcore. really), a house slipper. also, the battery charger (wtf), kinokuniya plastic bag and under it, a neatly folded newspaper from which i tore a book coupon from. not forgetting, laundry from god knows when.

today's my sister's thieteenth bday :) she's considered a 'teenager' now, if you want to listen to what the oxford dictionary says, the big baby.

(my eyes look crazy as shit, but what the hell)

had lunch at marche yesterday to celebrate. and then we went to borders because my sister wanted to look for her present (for which i forked out half the cash, haha) and she settled for a x-men comic. how weird, when i was thirteen i would've chosen something chick lit-y.

i did not buy anything although i was so so tempted to buy nicole krauss' history of love. i'm abstaining from buying books this month, if you're wondering. why?

that's why.