A telephone call

from an unknown number woke me up this morning.

Usually I would've chosen to ignore calls and go right back to sleep, but somehow I picked up the phone and was prepared to hang up if it were telemarketers.

It wasn't just any call, it was a one from the Dean's office inviting me to the annual gala dinner for students who made the list. I had a chance to invite two professors (as well as a plus one) to sit at my table. I was told to RSVP by October since the event is later that month.

I feel absolutely weird about inviting my professors, and frankly weird about going to the dinner too. I didn't know there were gala dinners for such events. In my previous universities, the Dean just sent you a congratulatory letter if you were on the list and that's that.

Well. There goes my sleep.

I'm coming to feel the Illinoise.

Bought them today. If you're on a roadtrip with me and I'm driving, these are the songs you'll be listening to in my car. Just giving you a heads up.

The CD's are coming in the mail next week.

Can’t wait.

What's the hurry, boy?

Cos you're making me dizzy.

The Case of the Horrible Artist

I asked B if my mother looked like me, and she said a firm "no". 

I went through every feature - the eyes, nose, lips and smile. The only thing she said we have in common is the way we laugh. When I asked how she remembers what my mother looks like, she said “I just saw her”.

I cannot remember what my mother looks like, the same way I cannot remember what everyone else looks like.