tea and oranges

The glittery New Year mani is already falling prey to poor impulse control.

My sister began reading and then recommending The Hunger Games books to me a few years ago, which I’ve still not got around to. My once-voracious book-reading habit has seemingly been replaced with an alarming amount of time spent deep in the rabbit-hole that is the Internet. Metafilter, TV Tropes, countless others: I blame you. (I love you, actually; please don’t go away.)

As we texted back and forth while I was at Comic-Con earlier this month, I mentioned that I’d (finally!) seen the first movie, had thoroughly enjoyed it, and would have to stop at the library soon to check out the books as I’m on a self-imposed book-buying ban due to the unfortunate stack of unread novels that taunt me from my bookshelf every single day. A week later, I opened a box she had mailed to me: included was a birthday card and a note acknowledging that while I might be on a book-buying diet, *she* wasn’t. She always had a bit of a rule-breaker streak in her, that girl.