Norah Jones, Will You Marry Me?

If Norah Jones were a guy, I'd stalk him until I could convince him to marry me.

But then I guess her/his music would sound much different with a man-voice, so I might not like it so much.

I just yesterday bought the Come Away With Me CD (I know! What took me so long?) and it's wonderful. I give you permission to stop reading my blog to run and buy it really quick. Go on then!

Oh, dead flower update!!! Ding dong, the flowers are dead--but they've also been thrown away. It seems as if the pressure finally got to her. Maybe my allergies will start getting better.

I bought some new jeans yesterday too. I have another sneaking suspicion about low-rise jeans. I think the reason so many people walk around with their scanties hanging out of the top of their jeans (or worse--their butt crack hanging out) is because the fitting rooms are strategically designed so that you can't sit down on the little bench and turn around to see if your drawers are showing. I tried this feat yesterday and noticed immediately that the mirror is not positioned so that you can tell if you're flashing any goodies when you sit down. The jeans I bought are "just below waist", and I haven't really felt any breeze or anything, so I think I'm OK. If you notice that I'm not OK, though, please tell me...preferably confidentially.