Neo-Citranville

I've got a weird throat bug, that not only gives me that sexy, gravelly voice- I sound like Harvey Fierstein- but makes me sleep like a log. I took today off to recuperate before work tomorrow, as I'm sure no one wants me coughing into their sandwiches, and spent most of it sleeping. When I wasn't sleeping, I was cleaning. The good news is that I found the handle to my razor, so I can stop growing a pair of hair pants. The bad news is that my room still looks like the CIA ransacked it, but also tidied up my stationary collection while they were at it. Now I'm chain-drinking Neo-Citran in an effort to knock this cold on its ass.

In other news, and before the Neo-Citran kicks in, I'm throwing a Trivial Pursuit Tournament at my place on the weekend. I've even drafted my roommate into playing on my team. Unfortunately, she's American- and we're playing with the Canadian edition. So I have her on a strict preparation regimen of Canadian geography and notable CBC figures. Well, not really. I figure if she learns too much, all the terrible gaps in my education will be revealed, and she'll stop being impressed when I can answer a simple question about R.B. Bennett.

And finally, I want one of these TerraCross campers. I hate SUVs with a passion, and yet I'm utterly charmed by campers and some mobile homes, even though they're probably even worse as far as fuel efficiency goes. This one looks like it will survive the coming zombie apocalypse with ease. In fact, it looks like it could just drive over the living dead without a scratch. And look at that interior! Not only is it nicer than my apartment, which isn't really that hard to do, but it finally answers the question of what a mobile home would look like if it was designed by Ikea. I could eat Swedish meatballs and drink lingonberry juice in that nook! Put a gerber daisy in a Faren vase and get to work on my book about organic cookery! I could make freaking espresso every morning in the middle of India! Although the realization that there's more counter space in that camper's kitchen than in my own is starting to make me a little weepy. Maybe my parents won't mind if I use all of my tuition and rent money to buy one of these. And then I could finally achieve my most cherished dream: driving my home to class.

Dooo bee do be dooo... just destroying some ecosystem.