I filled up the car today because the Shell next to exit 353 on I-75 had gas at 2.49 a gallon, and my heart skipped a beat when I saw the sign. I bought a cloak and a leaf style clasp for my hobbit costume that I'm wearing to the party on Friday night (though I decided not to bring Sting... I think it's just inviting disaster). I should be working on my proofs...as usual...but I am not...as usual...

My sister somehow managed to get seven cakes for her birthday. SEVEN. CAKES.

I don't know how she does it! I always tell myself that I'm not going to fall for her fiendish plans, but somehow things never go exactly as I plan...like, she'll come up to me and say, "Paula, take me to the store," and I'll reply, "no, I'm not taking you to the store, you can drive yourself," and then fifteen minutes later I find myself behind the wheel of the car, suddenly waking up from a hypnotic trance, realizing the position I am in, hysterically wondering to myself how did this happen? as she puts the radio on her station or slips in one of her CD's. Or, occasionally while I was living at home, I'd wake up late, furiously throwing together clothes and my books and searching the house wildly, futilely for a certain pair of shoes...and give up on them, settling instead for another pair. Later that evening, she'd waltz in with the shoes on her feet. "I asked you this morning, and you said yes," she'd say, and I'd blurt, "Of course I said yes, I was asleep, you could have asked me for my immortal soul and I'd still've said yes!" but of course that's exactly why she asked me then.

All in all it makes me very relieved that she's usually on my side, because cakes, shoes, and mysterious powers of persuasion besides (maybe because), she's probably my best friend in the entire world.