Argh.
I love my dad dearly, but when my mom's in the hospital he doesn't know what to do with himself. So tonight he's forwarding jobs he thinks would be good for Stephen, down where my folks live.
Which is generous of him (and completely in character -- my dad would fix everything for everybody, if he could) but the plan is to move down there when the boys' school year is over, and for Stephen to go back to school and for me to work, and write at night. Working some full-time career-type job isn't going to be possible if he's doing school full-time, which we want so he can do it in two years.
And my dad knows this. Or has, at least, been told this. Which he's either ignoring or has forgotten.
He's also forwarding all the job alerts to me, even though Stephen has his own email address. Which HE'S USED TO SEND MY DAD STUFF BEFORE.
I fear what the man will be like when he's forced to retire.
It may be a week or two--have to decide if it's time to move on from Adventures in Bobland, but the possibility is seeming delightful.
I know I'm delighted!
Tep, I've got berjillions of pictures of you all dressed up with red wet lips looking totally sexaglamourpuss.
You're both sweet as hell, but you both LIE.
I have seen pictures of you in a cherry dress that beg to differ.
Also I have these [link] (scroll down to just after bitching about technical difficulties). I don't agree with him on the quality of chocolate (it's milk with white on the inside). My toys are different too. So far I have this [link] which cute, unillumitating cartoon aside, is a tiny, clear plastic horned elephacowpig thingie with a die just smaller than an advil in it. I have no idea how you're supposed to play with it.
I also have these [link] which are a little clearer. Though the cartoon doesn't show the little apparatus part that makes them spin. I just figured out how to make them work since I have the apparatus and not the stump/gladiator arena in the cartoon.
Of course all the instructions are in German.
I finally made a hair appointment the other day. I couldn't get in with the hairdresser I want until April 6th. I have no idea what I am doing with my hair, but at least these wirey grays will be gone.
Won't argue with you about it (I know that can get uncomfortable), but I promise, if I said it, I believe it.
Teppy, I have to second what other people are saying. In fact, in cleaning through my stuff today, I found a card with Mae West on it that I meant to send to you a while back because it made me think of you.
OMG - I just checked my work e-mail (I know, obessive much) and I got a notice that they want to recognize my service anniversary at our next full office meeting. They recognize employees when we hit 5 year increments. My anniversary date is May 28th. I hit 15 years LAST YEAR. Nice timely recognition, eh?
I don't want to shock you Suzi, but they take you for granted. So does your husband. It's a theme.
More people need to recognize your awesomeness immediately! I decree it.
Won't argue with you about it (I know that can get uncomfortable), but I promise, if I said it, I believe it.
I appreciate it, and I should say that (1) I wasn't fishing for compliments, and (2) I'm not suffering from a crippling attack of low self-esteem at the moment. I actually think I don't look half bad, and I have a boyfriend who calls me beautiful so often that I really think he means it.
I just get pangs from time when I see a sleek, sexy, dangerous, glamgirl, stop-traffic type of look that other women can pull off, because -- well, sometimes Betty wants to be Veronica. And Betty + red lipstick does not = Veronica. It's only playacting.
But then, I figure someone somewhere must wish she had round Germanic features and yellow hair, and there's balance in the universe once more.
