Congratulations on the offers Kristin. I am sending you all sorts of good wishes for finding happiness and serenity in change.
Erin, the boy was clearly crazy and in no way deserves you. Especially not for good, clean, kinky fun.
This morning, I called Bec for the first time since my mother died. It was a good conversation. It's still just so easy to talk to her.
This is nice, billytea. I am glad you had a good weekend and that you and Bec still have that comfort level.
Buffista babies are just way too cute and pretty.
Truer words, not spoked.
I approve of the mom talk.
As do I.
It makes me want babies.
Doesn't make me want babies though. Well, it makes me want to *borrow* babies and Buffistas make good and borrowable babies...
Being robbed is just such a violating feeling to me. Though mostly it has just been cars. I don't know how much worse / different it would be if it was my home. I am glad, at least, that you still have the most sentimental object Betsy...
Has anyone tried the Aveda Inner Light tinted moisturizer?
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I am back home.
The time away was lovely. It was a nice vacation and there was some almost catharthic quality to it even. I am very glad that I went.
Also got a present of a River T-shirt that tickled me ten ways to Sunday. (My host gift was a bottle of Firefly wine that is actually a lovely lovely wine, with a rocking name.) And a keychain. But that was swag from the theatre, not my host.
The world, however, continues to amuse itself with me as there was a fiasco that I had to deal with when I got back. But it went shockingly smooth compared to what it could have been.
Who knew I would be so thrilled with the idea of going to work tomorrow? Cause I totally am...
My life went through a lot of intense, painful change exactly five years ago and it seems to be doing so again. I am shedding my skin again.
Last night I drank a lot of champagne
I have Prosecco to toast the Letter of Intent and surviving the mess I came home too. But I am TiFaux watching the Indy500 first because I was a bad race slut and was flying halfway across the country when it was on live. I think the Prosecco comes later. Hopefully with a really hot bath and a cabana boy to rub my back. And Aimee's leftovers.
Most ironic self injury:
Cutting my hand on the edge of a metal first-aid kit that I was going into to get a bandage for a scraped knee.
Second most ironic self injury:
Navigating icy conditions all day, on foot and in car, with nary a mishap, only to trip on a cat toy when I get home, thereby requiring four stitches in my chin.
Fucking people. I swear to gods I just don't understand stupid fucking fuckheads.
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In 20 minutes I'm going to Tarantino's Pizza to get all-you-can-eat Stromboli.
I love Mondays.
I am full of charred grilled meat and cake and really expensive wine.
I love Memorial Day.
Hey Cass! I'm sorry we missed you Friday.
Huuuuuuge Cookout at the bar last night. Unfortunately, the cook had one too many shots and I had to cart him home before the thing was over. I did get to see a friend and her girlfriend shortly before we left which was nice. I hadn't seen either of them in a while, and I know they were having a sort of cooling off period with a mutual friend which is usually the only way I get to hang out with them.
Spurred by jealousy over a friend's getting a job that will give her a foot in the door to her dream career, another friend going back to school to do what she really wants to do, and various buffistas and other meat-space people making big life changes, I'm looking at a job change. I'm neither generally unhappy or miserable about work, but I don't really look forward to it either. I think that current events have sort of conspired to push me toward making this change too. I'm not going to quit tomorrow or anything, but I'm putting pieces into place. It's a pretty big shift of focus, if not actual skills, so I feel a little adrift. Excited, but overwhelmed.
ION: Tim may have the cutest beagles, but I have the cutest damn puppy on the planet. He's laying in my lap with his head in my robe sleeping and twitching and occasionally grunting. He has also amassed an impressive collection of gumballs (not the chewable kind- to anything not Oz anyway- but the kind that fall from trees) that he keeps near his crate.
I have survived the Little League Death March. Our team had four games and Emmett snuck in an extra game with another team. He looked tired out there today. He pitched well in his one inning (striking out the side), but was missing balls while catching and only got on base once with a squibber. But we won anyway, and had contributions from less likely sources. It was a more fun game than yesterday anyhow, and now we're back home and I've got a very tall, very limey vodka tonic.
Oh noes! Tarantino's is not answering their phone. I hope they aren't closed for Memorial Day. I might cry.
Hooray for the new life, Heather.
My last BPAL order included "Mi-Go Brain Canister". It came with its own squishy brain. Squishy brain is good.
Hey Cass! I'm sorry we missed you Friday.
Yeah that was too bad. But my friend ended up having awesome news at work when the evil overlord and his wife were summarily fired so stuff got all caught up in celebrating that. It was, however, great to meet you even if it was briefly. Next time I am in Dallas, I want to hang out more though.
Squishy brain is good.
Squishy brain good.
I just finished watching the Indy 500. I am frelling giddy and bouncing. This is so damn cool.
