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rue-madame's Diaryland Diary

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She's a mean one...

For the record, it is a crime and a shame that Brooks Brothers no longer makes pyjamas for boys.

This is one of those cases of a brand being revitalized and in the process, being stripped of all of its integrity and history. Where are generations of young men going to learn about shirts and ties and jackets?

Oh sure, Brooks Brothers has kept the obvious preppy signifiers like the navy blazers with gold buttons and the old man slippers, but they’ve lost a lot of the nebulous qualities that made the brand so old school WASPy and great.

That’s not the only thing annoying me.

I am annoyed by the fact that I need to buy a new computer. I thought I could postpone this purchase for another year or so, but I’ve got a 9 GB hard drive, and less than 1 GB of wiggle room. Part of it is my fault: I am a lax file manager, and I do not back up often enough. Even if I were to aggressively archive my files, there would still be the problem of software apps that take up more and more room on my hard drive. I think software manufacturers have become sloppy and half-assed with their code.

I had to throw together Christmas lists for my parents and TA’s parents and I hate doing that in a rush.

I had to remind my mother that the Moratorium of 2000 still holds. It is the one that strictly prohibits the impulsive purchase of clothing and accessories for me. She’s not going to be happy about it, but like medicine, the bad taste will quickly fade to feelings of euphoria when she sees how much I genuinely like my gifts.

TA’s mother is all about the Amazon links. I appreciate how reasonable she is: she wants to get you something you like, and she sets aside a budget for each person. My mother, on the other hand, equates gifts with love and deficit spends in an attempt to buy affection, and if there’s a list, she only wants to buy you items that she will have fun shopping for. It’s totally demented.

As if Christmas were not bad enough, I move this weekend, and am nearly paralyzed by all of the minutiae still left to orchestrate. There’s a van rented on Saturday, a truck rented on Sunday, walls that still need painting, doors that are not completely hung, boxes in need of packing, trips to Goodwill, rental apartment needing to be scrubbed top to bottom… annoying? Yes.

It’s noon and I need a drink.

12:11 p.m. - 2004-12-10

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