One of my favorite things is a halloween card that my mom sent me one year from the dogs (signed with muddy paw prints.) It shows a little dog standing at a doorway with a halloween basket, and you can see Frankenstein just inside the door. On the inside it just reads "Run, Toto, Run!"
Thing is, when I got the card, it was just after I had been assaulted at gunpoint - I managed to spring the news right after she mailed it but before it arrived. And she was just
horrified
at the thought of what she had just sent winging my way, and didn't know whether to tell me about it, or tell me to throw it away, or somehow engineer a mailtruck heist, or what. And the thing was, it made me laugh when I got it, and made me cry when she told me how awful she felt, and laugh and cry all at once when I was falling all over myself to make her understand "no, it's okay, it didn't bother me. No seriously. No, I mean it. Really, it was funny.," over and over and over again.
It's such a silly thing, and every time I see the card it makes me remember her with such a rush of love and grief all together and I need to stop talking about it now but it's one of my absolute treasures.
Whoa, didn't know that was coming. (Sally on Coupling: "I just opened my mouth and there was more in there than I thought.")
Epic, I would change "what's going on at CompanyName" to "the opportunities at CompanyName," or something like that. "What's going on" sounds a little casual. Also, maybe, gossipy.
Thank you AmyLiz! That particular phrase was the one that bothered me most, but my brain just refused to give me any alternatives.
{{{brenda}}}
A cartoon most here will love: Two Lumps for today.
There is a bee who keeps flying in our window. We've tried numerous times to shoo him back out again, but he keeps coming back. He's now hovering around our ceiling.
There is a bee who keeps flying in our window. We've tried numerous times to shoo him back out again, but he keeps coming back. He's now hovering around our ceiling.
You should put some honey on your lips and see if she'll come down.
Steph is trying to kill me through laughter-suffocation.
I am starting to despair under all this constant back pain. I'm at the point where I just want to cry all the time and then maybe kill myself so no one else needs to hear my pitiful whining, and the noises I make when I try yo to move.
My body must know that I've hated it all along, even though I was trying to be good to it these past few years.
here's a hint for the whole world: if I ask you three times for EVERYTHING your tip gets shitty
today was be-waited-on Friday. HAH. So much for a treat. grrrrr
