Tonight I unearthed my camera from my big shelf, and took some pictures of random stuff in my room:

I drove tonight!

I went to go hang out with Kim, Josh, and Ayrton, and as the evening wound down, Kim drove to the parking lot of the hideous church where the graduation ceremony was held. She tried to teach Ayrton how to drive standard, and he screwed up a bit with the clutch and the car jerked about. Then Kim offered to let me try, and Josh got out of the car. He probably thought I'd end up killing everyone, but I most certainly did not. I did better than Ayrton, and managed to drive about twenty feet before I screwed up with the clutch. So, hah, Josh should have trusted me. I had a lot of fun, even though my heart nearly jumped out of my chest when the car moved forward. The fact that I was controlling a dangerous machine and not messing up too badly made me feel almost powerful. Definitely happy though, because clumsy ol' me managed not to crash the car.

Now I should go get my learner's license so I can really drive, and scare the bejeezus out of Josh on a regular basis.

Shoes. Have I ever mentioned before why I hate shoes?

I had $60 to spend on shoes this weekend. I was hoping to find a pair of comfy brown suede loafers that didn't have 4 inch platforms. I need to be able to stand on the bus, y'know. However, almost every bloody pair of loafers has a platform. That's not the point of loafers. The point is that they are supposed to be comfortable, and worn while loafing around. Hence the name. Finally I gave up on the idea of loafers, and decided to get a pair of flat Mary Janes like I had last fall. That was equally futile. Why does every goddamned pair of shoes at mainstream shoe stores have to be narrow with a giant platform? I want pretty shoes, that are wide and only have a little heel. Anyway, I ended up going to WalMart and buying a cheap pair of black shoes to tide me over until I can find something suitable. These shoes tick me off too, because I had to get a size 9. Instead of being the Attack of the 50 Foot Woman, a B-grade movie about me would be Attack of the Woman With Gargantuan Feet. Do you have any clue how difficult finding size 9 shoes at WalMart can be? Almost as difficult as finding size 8W shoes at the mall.

In other news, according to Kim and my mom I am probably going to become cancerous. If loving cell phones, computers, and Diet Cola is wrong, I don't want to be right.