Folk + fest = urgh

I have to run a kiddie face painting booth at the Willamette Valley Folk Fest on account of this job of mine. It could be worse. Hours-wise, I'm getting off easy, which is nice considering I'm stipended and every hour they squeeze out of me lowers my hourly wage. Though the whole children aspect of it is unpleasant, it ought to go well. I can't really stand kids, by and large. The exceptions, my cousins and Julia most notably, are of course the most precocious and amazing kids ever, but the rest...meh. Thing is, kids really like me and I just don't get that. When I'm grumpy, they like me more. Quite the phenomenon.

Let's see. Over the past couple of weeks, I had a rap session with two of my GTFs, made minimal progress on Areli's birthday present (let alone the May birthdays), had a looong conversation with my beloved aunt, did masses of laundry, wished alternately that I were in Anchorage and that I never had to go back, found a job for the summer (in AK), and got a bunch of stuff done for the studying abroad business. Not to mention Mom's day. Not to mention endless boring classes that seem awfully pointless now. The weather here is manic and I'm starting to feel the same.

well then.

As if church and state weren't close enough already, now they're conjoined twins. A baptist church in North Carolina excommunicated the Democrats from its flock.

On the other hand, look up the Burka Band.

My beer turned out pretty well. Not earth-shattering, but a smooth, summery brew that goes nicely with all this damn rain.

Oregon rain

Cats and dogs? hell, this is rhinoceri and hippopotami. I don't care how disdainful my Texan roomie gets, these downpours are violent baptisms for the Willamette Valley. But it's inevitably as short-lived as it is ardent. It'll be over in an hour, if that. The rain is frenetic, but I can already hear it slacking off a little. There's got to be some kind of parable in here. Perhaps compared to the week-long Anchorage drizzle-fests. More on that as it develops.

PLC has a feral gerbil farm dwelling under the ivy. I saw about half a dozen rattish things munching and scuttling today on a Roma-run from the library.

I'm a ridiculous procrastinator. It's getting terminal. All of my study abroad paperwork remains neglected, my passport is still v1.0 (starring Erica, the 13 year old monstrosity!) and on and on. The temptation to list it is great, but I'd bore you and freak myself out.

Kyle and I are now addicted to The L-Word. No one saw it coming.