Roommates

Sometimes, I let my roommate use my laptop. Hers isn't in yet, and the one she is borrowing from the school is old and slow.  Not mine, mine is new and fast, and pretty, and big. It makes large portions of my life easier. I can also look at both pages of the yearbook while I make it without having to squint.

Sorry, devoted fans, I got sidetracked. This is not an ode to my laptop, though that may also be useful sometime. The point I was striving for was this: Sometimes, when I log into Facebook after having loaned her my computer, I find that my status has been changed. Usually to something along the lines of "Amy is my favorite roommate of all times." This is funny, and not quite as inflammatory as the time my brother put on my post that he was my favorite sibling.

Today, I was going to share some thoughts with you on my masters class. When I turned on my photobooth, to take a staged picture of me reading (as it is very hard to take candid pictures of oneself) I found this: 

Apparently, she enjoys taking pictures of herself on photo-booth as much as I do:

And just so you know, she hadn't seen this picture when she took hers, and I took this one sometime last year. It's just a coincidence that we are both doing close to the same face. Or, we're both just too tired to hold up our own heads.

Also, she just stuck her head in and informed my writing class of this: A good essay should be as long as a skirt. Long enough to cover everything, and short enough to keep things interesting.