My brother has left for London, my prelims have ended, the world is thick with change. I feel like a steamroller ran over me. (I don't respond effectively to change.)
After a large lunch at Marche's, where everyone enjoyed the sight of Zihao licking his plate clean like a boy starved of dessert (which he is), a split ran between painfully gender-stereotype activities. The boys piled off to watch Dodgeball, the girls went shopping. I like shopping. No, I love shopping. Truest sense of today's use of the word ('love', not 'shopping').
(I feel some sense of the "hollowness" now, I suppose, my throat clamps together. Everything snowballs so quickly. Everything ends equally so.)
Anyway, I slipped into Glory Music later and started pestering the store-owner about Garden State because she had the soundtrack. She had to repeat several times that she sold music, not movies. Here's Donne, music and mod-style. Times have changed, huh.

I am thinking it's a sign
That the freckles in our eyes
Are mirror images and
When we kiss they're perfectly aligned
And I have to speculate
That God himself did make us into
Corresponding shapes like puzzles pieces
From the clay
...
They will see us waving from such great heights
"Come down now," they'll say
But everything looks perfect from far away
"Come down now," but we'll say...
- Iron and Wine, Such Great Heights