Aimee, yeah, your haircut and color look great on you. I exhibit no suprise.

I want to be entertained this morning, before I have to go get ready for church. I think the odds are slim, because this has been a quiet Buffista weekend, and most of you godless heathens are not only sleeping, but are among the more entertaining.

I suppose vw, Anne, Susan (if she lived in a real time zone) and I could get into a terribly earnest conversation, but that would take too much energy, and might send poor Ginger running and screaming from the thread. What to do? What to do?

Maybe I'll just go all (okay, more) random, and post about whatever comes into my head (I mean, more than I usually do).

George W. Bush is still President of the United States of America, and my snow is starting to melt. I can see the leaves we didn't manage to rake up last Fall, although no actual grass. For whom is Tuesday named? It seems to me those fruit snack thingies aren't a good thing for my kids to eat. I wonder if I have any pantyhose which are free from runs.

One time, when I was leaving church as a little kid, I grabbed a man's hand, thinking he was my dad. We walked quite a bit of the way down the sidewalk, before I turned my gaze higher than his sports jacket, and saw it was a completely different man (with a similar build, and hairline). I was very little, and very mortified.

I have to clean my car out. It's all winter ick in there--salt and sand. I don't know what I am going to cook for dinner, but I like Christopher's race car jammies. I remember one time Miracleman's old employer got some kind of bomb threat, while he was at work. I was still pretty new, then.

I wonder what would have happened if there had been a sixth season of Angel. I know one thing for sure. I really need curtains for this den. Why is that Winnie the Pooh stuffed animal on the floor? I think we're out of waffles, and I don't know if the boys dress shoes will fit them, for Easter Sunday. That holly plant never died, even though we never did manage to get it into the ground before the snow came.

We're out of oranges. I feel guilty when I use paper towels, and the sky is very blue. I have no idea what color we should paint the house. I'm so glad Scott moved his old stereo system out of the living room.

Can you tell we canceled our morning newpapers?

And why would a terribly earnest conversation cause me to run screaming? Besides, we can't have one with vw, because she's off being cultural.

My question is: It seems to me that I keep cleaning off my desk, but it's never clean. It has two prescriptions I should call in, two printed out e-mails, a dust rang, a Kleenex, three business cars, a notbook, a coupon, notes on odd bits of paper, a checkbook, some crumbs and Miss Piggy on it.

Walk of shame. I am typig very carefully. It's sunrise, and I need to go to sleep. I ate a Bacon, Egg and Cheese biscuit. It was very good.

Why is the Walk of Shame never as fun as you want it to be?

No nightmares last night, just this bitch of a windstorm throwing limbs into cars with ALARMS all night.

And yes, it's worky-worky time for moi again.

And why would a terribly earnest conversation cause me to run screaming? Besides, we can't have one with vw, because she's off being cultural.

I have no idea. I was working my way up to random, by starting off tongue and cheek, but there was no literal meaning in any of it. I also forgot vw was being all cultural.

My question is: It seems to me that I keep cleaning off my desk, but it's never clean. It has two prescriptions I should call in, two printed out e-mails, a dust rang, a Kleenex, three business cars, a notbook, a coupon, notes on odd bits of paper, a checkbook, some crumbs and Miss Piggy on it.

Do you have a wastebasket near your desk? If not, maybe that would help? I always tell myself I am going to be more like my aunt. She'll get an invitation in the mail, stop at the calendar to jot down the date, make the phone call (or fill out the response card and put it with her outgoing mail), and chuck the invitation in the trash, before I could decide which envelope I was going to open, first.

Why is the Walk of Shame never as fun as you want it to be?

I'm glad you had no nightmares Stunt Husband.

Okay, now I have to get moving. I hate that part.

Clearly I'm not really up to typing this morning.

Yes, there's a waste basket right under my elbow. It's just that most of these bits of paper reflect something I should do. Often it's something that will only take 10 seconds, and yet I let these bits of paper languish.

morning!

Walk of Shame, Erin??? Ooooh, do tell!!

Girl has STILL NOT EMAILED. This is making me supercranky.

I am supposed to go have brunch with some people shortly. It's sad when instead of thinkign "Yay, people, yay brunch!" I'm thinking "well, it'll distract me from endlessly checking my email for a few hours..."

Yes! Share everything about the Walk of Shame.

Girl! What's your damn problem?? Email meara already!