I was answering AmyLiz's question from earlier.

scrubbing bubbles seems to work - I just have to pause and let it do the work

I will need to do another level of scrubbing tomorrow - but the floor looks very livable. yaay!

BTW - the necterines I bought - the taste is perfume. pure summer

I've got a bit of residual angst regarding the effects of the accident,

Honestly, I can't see any in the pictures. I don't know if it is any differrent face to face or more importantly, in the mirror, but I couldn't see any.

Yay floors. I think those Scrubbing Bubbles use dark majiks but I so love them.

I have mint growing everywhere outside. It smells blissful.

I was just casually watching random racing on tv and found one of my dad's friends that he'd lost touch with maybe 20 years ago. Huh. And dad and I ended up talking about him a couple of weeks ago wondering what he was doing. Now I know.

Trade some mint for a nectarine??? I'm got lots of kinds. The orange bergamont smells dreamy...

We had shortcake last night with nectarines, blackberries and strawberries. It was suburban style with those bought cake bottoms and Cool Whip, 'cause we thought that would be fun--and it was really good. I have always disdained the Whip of Cool as a freaky manmade product, but it was delicious.

I was answering AmyLiz's question from earlier.

D'oh! Exposed as the skip- and skimmer that I am.

Huh.

pouts

Evidently the momentousness of me having a date has passed you all by.

I have a date.

This will be the first date I have had for more than a year. And one of only a pretty small handful of dates ever in the life of Very Very Single Me. And the guy I'd been trying to gird my loins to email took the initiative and texted me, damn it. And we spent much of the evening texting (I understand texting hasn't really taken off as a phenomenon in the States, but it's a very popular form of communication in the UK) and in the end I did the 'hey, want to go and get a cup of coffee or see a movie' thing.

Which is the first time I have ever done that, pathetic as this confession is.

I mean, I'm not all head over heels besmitten, and I'm quite ferociously defensive about it all, because I remember liking him when we met and happily spending several hours talking to him animatedly, but maybe when I see him again he'll realise that I'm a ghastly, short-tempered woman with an arse the size of Dorset and odd taste in clothes, and I'll realise that he's a twit who gets on my nerves, and, and, and it may be entirely awful. Or we might just get on well and have no sexual attraction thing going on at all. Or we could be attacked by space monkeys.

But I have a date. Kind of. Which is quite a big thing in the World of Me. The fact that this revelation passed you all by pretty much reinforces my notion that the rest of the world does an awful lot more dating than me. Bastard Rest of the World.

Yay for Fay Dateage!

nods

Now that's what I'm talking about!