Okay. After devoting myself almost full-time since 10:30 to this, I owe the DMV another $21 and they promise that's it, no more mystery charges sprouting up out of nowhere. I'm still expecting to be roundly fucked come Monday when I go in to pay, but for now that's what they're saying. Then there's the car insurance and the credit card payment and we're done for the month. And after this weekend of relative-hosting, the credit cards go in the freezer.
Oz ,'Beneath You'
Spike's Bitches 34: They're All Slime and Antlers
[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.
If you're not organized, you could lose a copy of the Declaration of Independence for 200 years: [link]
And jeez, how pathetic is it that I'm having the traditional mid-20's "I don't know what to DOOOO!" angst at 31?
I am right there with you, my sister in 31-yr-old "Well, fuck, what now?"
Of course then I'm all "I'll write a comic! I'll go to grad school! I'll design clothes! I'll knit couture dog sweaters! I'll have a girly pink sex shop! I'll fight crime! It'll be awesome!" Then I fall over with exhaustion at how busy ideal me is.
"I'll write a comic! I'll go to grad school! I'll design clothes! I'll knit couture dog sweaters! I'll have a girly pink sex shop! I'll fight crime! It'll be awesome!"
I want you to do all of those things!
FWIW, I didn't publish my first book until mere weeks before I turned 40.
Then I fall over with exhaustion at how busy ideal me is.
YES. "I'll study Shakespeare! I'll own a karaoke bar! I'll become a massage therapist!" Oy.
Clearly, you and I should go into business together, juliana. For we have ideas that are both right and good.
FWIW, I didn't publish my first book until mere weeks before I turned 40.
I turn 40 in ten weeks. Crap.
For we have ideas that are both right and good.
Yes. Also, we are very pretty and can hold our liquor.
t waits impatiently for Scola's first book
I know the feeling. Although the worst part of mine is that people think they *know* what I do already. "You're so lucky...not having to work or anything." I don't know whether to hit those people or feel like "Shit, your job is fucking sad. Sorry, bunk."Dude, Scola...smile at me the right way and I could give you mine. It's not perfect, but...