--from "Too Fancy," by Deborah Gibson

"Then again, I've already missed out on two whole weeks of pre-birthday hype since the start of the season a month before, so maybe I'll get back into the swing of things after all."

The above, taken from the end of my last entry, has got to be one of the most awkward sentences I've written in some time. What I'd meant was that, as far as I'm concerned, the birthday hype season officially begins a month before my birthday, and I'd already missed taking advantage of the first two weeks of it.

But that's okay. I'll be making up for lost time.

The awards ceremony's at 2 PM this coming Thursday, so if you happen to be in New York City and want to drop by, let me know, and I'll give you the particulars. Which is easy for me to say, as I'm pretty certain that this doesn't apply to any of my readers, except those few I already know in Real Life, who don't really need me to invite them in the first place. But, hey, if I'm wrong, feel free.

So far as I know, the kid and his mother are both doing well. And that's pretty much all I've heard so far.

Mazel tov!

I'd started reading it over a year ago, actually; Professor J had an advance copy of the thing in his office shortly before its official release, and I started reading it there. And loved the start of it. It just wasn't until now that I found it in the library and read the whole thing.

I should probably mention at this point that the author is a professor in the English Dept. at my college, although I've never taken a course with him. (I was going to once, but ended up opting for Philosophy 101 instead. Bad move, in hindsight.) But that doesn't matter. The book is narrated by Edgar Allan Poe, and kinda does for the origins of some of his works what Shakespeare in Love did for Romeo and Juliet; that is to say, it bears no resemblance to the historical reality, but it makes for a good story. The book also features Davy Crockett, and the author does wonderful things with the interplay between their respective dialects and worldviews, and... oh, just read it. Trust me.

It's from Emporio Armani, and it's in a really cool iridescent envelope. And it consists of two brochures, each of which says "Emporio Armani Spring/Summer 2000" on the front, and has a long list of store locations and phone numbers on the back. No other text is provided. Otherwise, each brochure contains eighty small photographs: of men's fashions in one case, of women's fashions in the other.

I understand the "how" of the situation, but I'm a bit confused on the "what" and the "why." That is to say, it's not hard to guess how I ended up on their mailing list. I got a credit card recently, and with that credit card came a free trial subscription to Entertainment Weekly (which I intend to cancel before the trial period runs out), and I've suddenly found myself getting a lot more junk mail. No big mystery there.

But usually said junk mail comes with a sales pitch. Generally, it's companies offering credit cards; okay, I understand that. I'm a college student; I'm in a demographic that consists of people likely to dig themselves deeply into debt and then spend the next several years of their lives paying off said debt, and these companies would like to get a piece of the action. Makes sense.

On the other hand, the starving college student demographic isn't particularly known for spending lots of money on Armani suits, is it? Even among Entertainment Weekly readers, I would imagine... but, anyway, what really confuses me is the lack of an accompanying letter. I don't know what I'm expected to do with this, exactly.

The iridescent envelope is cool, though.