As I was driving to the Olde English show last night, I called my sister to see if there was anything she wanted to tell Ben Popik, her fake, creepy, internet boyfriend. She told me just to give him a hug. So I did.

Message from Ben:
Subtitle this picture, "I'm coming after you" or something to that effect.

I just came across this lovely site with instructions on how to care for your books. It really surprises me that I didn't write this myself. It has all the obsessive and annoying aspects of my love for books. My favorite section is the one on how not to loan books. There are some seriously classy instructions there, making it clear that it's better to lose your friends than loan your books. I highly recommend checking out the site in order to learn more about taking care of your precious books.

Here's my completely random and thought-provoking realization of the day:

I think that people who wear non-hooded sweatshirts are people who are really into horses.

When I say 'sweatshirts,' I mean athletic-type sweatshirts, the type that are generally either a light gray or a dark blue. We're not talking about dressy sweaters, the kind that might have an argyle design or that middle-aged men would wear at a house party while drinking a glass of red wine. In my mind, anyone I can picture wearing a non-hooded sweatshirt I can picture either working with horses, spending free time looking at horses, or drawing crude sketches of horses in the margins of a moderately organized notebook.

The reason I have come to openly equate these two groups of people is the observation of a girl in my Linguistics class. She was the sort of girl you look at and immediately understand she had a quiet childhood. She looked pretty young yet had a flashy ring on her left ring finger, likely signifying a youthful marriage. However, the first thing I noticed about her was the fact that she was wearing a non-hooded sweatshirt. In fact, she was wearing one both days I've seen her. In contrast, the last thing I noticed about her was as she was getting ready to leave, she put on a jacket that had "UC Davis Equestrian Center" on the back. I realized this didn't strike me as odd in any way, then started picturing the sweatshirts of all the people I know who are really into horses.

So I was wrong. It wasn't the end.

I realized this when Kate, AJ's girlfriend, parked in the tandem space behind my car. This meant that if I needed to go anywhere, I would have to ask her to move it and create a minor inconvenience. This is how it's supposed to work, but AJ parks in another spot because nobody actually cares.

When I first saw the car parked behind me, I was really excited. I so badly wanted to have that car towed, I nearly called our apartment manager right then and there. However, I noticed the license plate frame had "Chico" on it, so I made the correct assumption it was one of my roommates' friends.

In order to get back at Kate, I decided to install the frame on her car. Not sure what to make it say, I consulted Joe. I admit, it was a wonderful idea.

Sunday afternoon, when they went to Sacramento in AJ's truck, I installed the frame on the back of her car.

While I was at school Monday, I got the following message on my phone from AJ:

Hey Jeff, you little sneak. You almost got away with your plan to have Kate be harassed her entire way home by honking drivers. But we caught it... in the parking lot, so your plan was foiled, just so you know. I hope you're devastated.

Later on, he admitted that he was secretly sad they caught it. It would be great to see a girl completely confused as to why everyone was honking at her for the 2 hour drive to Chico.

Over the break, I learned that I rarely look at the front of my car.

In an effort to get back at Brandon, I tried to put it on the back of my car. I soon learned that the screws my license plate uses are too big to fit in the holes. This made me sad. I had a really good one too:

Alas, I bring you my workstation. This is where all the magic happened: