It's making me feel dirty thinking about how clean I could get.

Rich and Cat and I were doing a table today of bath supplies. And we got a little bit loopy.

It got embarrassing. Really.

Two Three things today.

1.) I'm a little bit in love with the son from the Citigroup commercials. You know, the one who takes his dad to Norway and then finds out they're actually Swedish? For a couple of reasons. One, he's wearing a sweater with a blazer. For my mother's daughter, which I most certainly am, this is almost enough for me to write to Citigroup to see if he actually exists. Secondly, he's taking his dad on a trip. Awww. That's so sweet. Third, he has enough money in a presumably Citigroup bank account to extend the trip to Sweden once they realize that they are not, in fact, Norwegian. A sweet, preppy guy with money and extra vacation time? Sign me up.

2.) Will people stop yelling about raking the damn leaves? Please?

a.) Leaves don't actually have to be raked. There is absolutely no way that the world is going to stop spinning if they aren't raked one year.

b.) I am pefectly capable of raking without my grandfather's supervision. I'm a twenty-year-old woman. I'm pretty smart. Even bright, some would say. I have a 4.0 Raking? Not so much above my grasp. And the twenty-three year old man assisting me? Probably able to do it on his own as well. Honestly. There is no reason for the twice hourly phone calls.

Also? Even if my generation hadn't reached adulthood, which we have, I'm not sure why he feels my mother, she of the J.D. (summa cum laude, no less), would not be able to organize four people and rakes. God. It bugs me so much.

c.) Seriously. They have to be raked right now? This week? When I have projects and tests and weird pimples? Honestly?

Grrr. I am not in the mood, y'all.

3.) I have a weird pimple on my face. It's right on my lip, so there's not a whole lot I can do about it. And it's bugging me. A lot.

That's all.

I've started recommending books that I've never read to customers. I never did that before, beause I had a paranoid fear that they were going to be like, "Really. You liked it? What happened in chapter 6?" Even though this is, at best, irrational.

But I read books that not a lot of people would like to read. No, really. I don't like most bestsellers, I have trouble feigning interest in anything stupid or fantasy or science-fiction. And no matter how hard I pimp The Nine (and dammit, Jeffrey Toobin should send me a check I work so hard to sell that baby), no one wants to read it.

Really their loss. Amazing book. But I digress.

So today I starting handing people David Baldacci books and praising them. And then Jason came up to me and complimented me on my recommending. And I felt a little bit bad. Not too much, because I checked later and she bought the Baldacci, and that is my job, but still.

Oh, I am not amused. Not at all.

Yes, Jessica, a sign of emotional maturity is indeed a cute butt. God, some people bug me.

OMG, OTHER BOLEYN GIRL TRAILER!!! *is dead with the happiness* Incidentally, this is another book I pimp to no end. I just hate myself more at the end of the day.

So I'm going to go try to quell these homicidal feelings I have towards the elder members of my family. Ciao.