God, I'm in love with a library.
Salt Lake City Library (henceforth referred to as my "little bunnikins" - we're reached that part of the relationship already) was built a year ago and is incredible. It's open and largely glass, has a large plasma screen tv and huge bean bags on the second floor and has an art exhibition on the third floor of clothing that I want. Each item of clothing is titled by the artist and it's solely because of these titles that I want them all.
For example: "Hat to wear while reading the plethora of instructions that came with the new fish tank you've bought and the instructions are spread all over the floor and you're pretty sure you've lost the filter already because you can't see it You have lost it, haven't you."
To further extrapolate upon my love for this beautiful piece of architectural bliss I raise forth on the silver platter of this blog a further analogy. I did, for a while, attempt to maintain a "mind palace"* - a 3d construction in my mind of a palace of rooms holding items, each assigned a piece of information. This technique, as a method of storage, is supposedly incredibly useful and, I found, entertaining. However, afer a week of using "little bunnikins" here, I could quite happily erase my mind palace and start over solely with this wonderful piece of builders bliss.

Point taken, Bright, but much as I would like to simply abandon the dude I'm staying with, it's rather late in the game and would be rather rude of me. I'm at the point, though, where I am simply stating I do not have the money to pay him (much as "I'd like to") - I say this because I actually don't have the money - perhaps because I'm still trying to buy an mp3 player myself, before I leave the U.S.
I guess I'll survive somehow, using my native cunning and urbane wit to outsmart those who would defy me, there minor and bitter attempts to dampen my shine fuelled only by their realisation their tiny minds are barely able to grasp my subtle intelligence let alone match it.
Ego cleanup on Aisle 5.

* - Every time I attempt to quotation marks in this blog now, I mentally envisage a mini-me-esque version of Bright saying the word, actions and all. I continue to push forward the envelope (or suitable stationery equivalent) of Bloody Strange Behaviour.