Anya ,'Showtime'
[NAFDA] Spike-centric discussion. Lusty, lewd (only occasionally crude), risque (and frisque), bawdy (Oh, lawdy!), flirty ('cuz we're purty), raunchy talk inside. Caveat lector.
t more rantycakes
I am the queen of passive-agressive, yet cheerful and upbeat, reminder e-mail to writers. The queen, I tell you! Becuase I don't want to alienate or upset my precious little writers, but half of them can't remember how to do their job. So I send out chirpy messages saying things like "I'm sure all of you are formatting this thingie correctly. But for my own peace of mind, I'm reminding you!"
Gaaah. Want to leave now now now. Can't yet. Dammit.
Oh my, back pain is the worst of the worst. Great relief to you soon.
Parental contracts are a good idea! My surrogate/nonofficial adoptive mom asked me to come live with her today. Considering everything, I'm considering it.
Remember when I was al McFevery Boysuck-ypants? Well, I have that same fever/incredible pain/ook for the third time in three months. Turns out, Fella has had some terrible infection all this time that he has just kept giving back to me. When he discovered this fact yesterday, did it occur to him to say 'my girlfriend doesn't have medical insurance at the moment, what can we do for her?' Why, no. It. did. not. I can't believe I had to remind him to do the right thing. (this after I've already spent/lost about 2k in the last four months with missed work and out of pocket doctors bills, not to mention taking enough antibiotics to battle an anthrax attack...for nothing)
What is the Universe trying to tell me?
What is the Universe trying to tell me?
::points Beej at "Illness as Metaphor" where the universe doesn't try to communicate with us through infections::
::weak smile and a fervent hope that David is right::
Punctuation to you, Beej. More than that, I am not wise enough to say.
My was-A-Boyfriend is no longer, AFAIC. He hasn't contacted me in 2 weeks. Nothing.
Sayonara, muthafucka.
And I have 23 sophomore research papers to grade before Friday morning. And when I went to pick up my Ambien refill (outta my way long trip) I was told my insurance won't pay for three more days. I guess if I can't sleep, I can always grade *le sigh*
Other than that, things are ok.
My was-A-Boyfriend is no longer, AFAIC. He hasn't contacted me in 2 weeks. Nothing.
I hate that. Grow some ovaries and break up with me, boy. A simple, "This isn't working out," or something else mumbled clear enough for me to catch the gist without having to think about your reason is preferable.
That's a dipshitty move on his part, Erin¹.
Jilli, I bought your recommended top coat. My hands lingered over their base coats, but I never seem to have time to put on four coats, so I didn't bother. Do you use the Vite on wet polish like they mentioned on their site?
¹ To be retracted in the case of him being found face down in a ditch or functional equivalent
Do you use the Vite on wet polish like they mentioned on their site?
Sometimes. Sometimes I wait a minute or two after the last coat of polish, and then apply the top coat.
Erin, that's a really twerp-ish thing to do to you. I'm sorry.
I will not be pissed if he is dead, I swear. But anything but? Dude. Phones everywhere.
'Cept maybe a coma. Amenesia?
It'd have to pretty fucking dire.