01 May 2015


I got a new phone a couple of weeks ago. It is a gold iPhone 6. I bought it at C0stC0 and put a glass 1nvisibleSh1eld screen protector on it and a clear case so you can see the pretty gold.

Sometimes I look at it and I don't recognize it as my own phone. It's too sleek. It's too shiny. It's too pretty.


Not really relatedly, someone asked me the other day if I would ever want to do what I am doing now or something more political on a national scale and I laughed and said that would require shiny hair that stays in place and wearing high heels, and we all know those two things are never going to happen. (If we ever manage to get over the obsession with what women look like when in the public eye, maybe I could do it.) 

"But you always look put together!" the person said.

I pointed out that I look put together for State of Happiness, which is a very large distinction. People here wear soft-shell jackets to work and love it. 

As do I. 

I do not, say, own a trench coat. 

(Just writing that bit about the trench coat made me want to look into whether the next season of Scandal is available in a format I can get for free, i.e. Netflix. If I did not have ridiculously pale skin that makes me look like I am in the process of dying of anemia when I wear white clothes, I would be hunting down every piece of clothing Olivia Pope wears. Also if I had a lot of money, obviously. As it is, I have to settle for the inverse of her clothes. Dark and cheap.)

There is no point to this blog post, so I will now stop writing.

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