tavie.com

The little blonde firecracker is finally graduated. I was spared the ceremony at Radio City Music Hall and the mayor's commencement speech, but tuned in for the lengthy celebratory dinner at Cafe Des Artistes. My duck was really, really good, and my bowl of berries was even better. Also in attendance: parents; Steph; Andrew; aunt and uncle, who did it: they gave her a laptop for a graduation present. (Well, a piece of paper with little pictures of laptops and the words "choose which one you want".)

The most painfully ironic part of this is: she doesn't even particularly want a laptop.

(And, if you haven't been reading my blog for a few months, the part that makes this ironic is that the whole time I was working, I was saving up to buy a laptop. When I finally had enough money saved, Doc, Grumpy, Sleepy, Bashful and Dopey decided to tour. Is it fair to not regret my decision and at the same time complain about the choice I made? No way I would have chosen not to do the Tour Extravaganza, but man, I still relish the right to moan and bitch that I don't have my own personal, portable computer with a titanium finish.)

What makes it worse, not better, is the fact that Kirsten is insisting that I help her decide which computer to get, because "it'll be yours, too."

"Don't do that," I say, "because if I were the one getting one, I sure as hell wouldn't share it with you."

"I'm not like that," she says. And the sad thing is that that is true. She would totally let me use her laptop whenever I felt like it, whereas I would scream if she even got near mine, and password-protect it into oblivion. So she gets a computer and she gets to be generous (and self-righteous!)

That's my girl. Sigh.

Why are you in Tavie's head? 2:07 AM | shower me with attention