Pretty In Pink

Today is a pretty-pretty-pink day.

What that means:

I'm wearing all pink. I have my pink "bride to be" pajama pants and a pink shirt on today. I'm dressed very matchy-matchy. The rest of me looks about what you would expect for a "screw pants" kind of day. My hair is mostly brushed, I think I brushed my teeth, but I'm dead certain that I put on deoderant.

See? I'm not completely lazy.

This was almost the first day I wore sweatpants to school. I say almost, and am still a little bitter. For this, like most things, blame can be placed firmly in my mother's corner.

She dropped by this morning for coffee and taxes. It was a nice visit. We got to talk for a bit and catch up while I signed my tax-thingie for the accountant. And just so you all know, yes, I do realize that once I start having to do my own taxes, I'll be screwed. She let me know what's going on out in the bush, and I tried to keep her from frantically cleaning my house. I keep telling her that during finals and/or paper season, University regulations forbid cleaning your house. This also can include doing your hair and showering, but I generally don't go that far.

She never believes me. She keeps saying stuff about me rotting to death or getting lost forever in laundry piles and how finals seem to start earlier and earlier every year.

Oh well. We also talked about my blog. Yay! I'm famous*. I gave my sister Teddy the link last week (for the fifty-millionth time) when she was bored at work to give her something to do. Now family news includes "An is funny. Who knew?" Teddy told this to Mum, and Mum is going to look at it now. Although changes may have to be made. Mum got all excited about this new and exciting bit of news and said "Panda even figured out that she's Panda. What do you call me? Mama Bear?" I looked at her, and not thinking, replied "Oh, you're just Mum." Oops.

So, Mum, I hearby dub thee Mama Bear. Long may you reign. Etcetera, etcetera, blah blah blah. Enjoy.

Then we both had to get going. I ran around frantically trying to find something I wanted to wear today to school before Mama Bear welshed on the ride to the U that I weaseled out of her. Mama Bear kept throwing nice jeans at me. I wanted big fluffy sweatpants. Mama Bear invented the No Ugly Sweatpants In My Car Rule. We compromised on my cute pink pj pants. Of course, this was after much begging, pleading, and sobbing that this was the last week of my life where I could realistically wear pajamas out of the house.**


*To my mom. Does that even count?
**I'll be a grown-up after this week, and then I have to be you know, wear clothes that make me look like a grown-up, and not the overgrown slob that I find so difficult to outgrow.