This is what I'm making for Fat Tuesday. It's no King Cake, but I liked the recipe because it made use of eggs and dairy, which I am giving up for Lent. Tomorrow, as all of you should know, is Ash Wednesday. I will have to cross the perilous (two-way, four lane, congested) street from the library to the Church and go to sing songs that I don't really know and don't particularly care for at the noon Mass. Miguel will be there, though. I already know what I am going to wear: my pink checked shirt, and my gray knee length skirt. I will look very cute, I think. Strike that, I know. Today, I am looking shleppy, though. This is because I am staying at home specially to partake of Mardi Gras foods and Valentine candy, which I get early due to impending Lent. I am wearing light blue drawstring pants and an orange and black striped shirt. No one says you have to be matching when there's no one significant there to look at you. Sometimes, I become embarrassed at the ridiculously ugly clothes I wear at home, but really, I have so few friends that I can be almost positive that no one will be stopping by to gaze on them. Even if they do, I can always run away to my room and change, so it's no matter.

Someone (you know I never mention names) told me, after reading this blogger, that I ought to write some fiction that focused on the adolescent mind. I don't know if this person was implying that I had an adolescent mind (it's very possible--these college people have such big heads), but I've been tossing the idea around in my mind today. The only problem is that I don't have a head for fiction. I love to read fiction more than anything, but writing it is another story (no pun intended). I will try to come up with something, and if I do, I'll blog it, or a link to it. I have lots of other things to work on, of course, but few things I do give me so much pleasure as releasing my twisted thoughts in this blog. Maybe fiction is just like a blog only you put things that aren't real. I've also been thinking how much more interesting this blog would be if I wrote things that weren't real, fake experiences, etc. I couldn't do that, though, because it would be dishonest. I read an article about an internet journal that became really popular and then it was discovered that it was all fake! I'm not fake, I'm real. I have real, twisted thoughts, like the ones I post here. I hope they are not twisted in a bad way, though.

I am still annoyed at the judges that picked the Russian pair over the Canadian pair in the Olympics. I think this has just turned me off to the whole thing, unfortunately. Now I can take no pleasure in the Games. I knew all along that they were just a big media spectacle that glorified frivolity, but at least I thought them to be fair. Now I know better.

I am making a foil ball out of candy wrappers. It is almost golf ball sized. I'm going for a tennis ball size.

Now I have to fix my WinAmp; it won't play my mp3.com songs. Bye!