Thanks lisah!
sj, I found it. You really shouldn't have, but thank you.
[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.
Thanks lisah!
sj, I found it. You really shouldn't have, but thank you.
raisin bran crunch with blueberries:
I missed the need for ma.
d, ~ma for your dad, and Kristin, ~ma for your mom.
and thank you Juliana!
Now I have to get back to work for a bit. I'll pop back in again later.
Happy Birthday, Deena! So nice to see you around these parts.
Rationally, I knew it was going to be fine, because my boss and I communicate on a daily basis, but there's still a niggling worry that one of these days they'll figure out that I'm a fraud.
Had mine yesterday, and I think it was the first one I ever went into without that feeling.
Happy birthday, Deena!
Uhm, this morning, I was cleaning out an email that I rarely ever look at and some of y'all had emailed me a long time ago. I am a dolt.
So I skewed and I dumped.
My husband, who's a pretty decent rider, says you aren't a qualified, "real" motorcyclist until you've dumped your bike. So, I"m glad you go that out of the way quickly and I hope people stop being so stupid.
Oh, and HAPPY BIRTHDAY, DEENA!!
I wasn't sure when I'd see you here, Deena, so I dropped a birthday greeting over in LJ.
t maximal hugs
My husband, who's a pretty decent rider, says you aren't a qualified, "real" motorcyclist until you've dumped your bike
Does it count if you're the passenger? We hit black ice when trying to avoid an idiot and went down. I had to use the bumper of the minivan that had skidded to a halt behind us to balance to get myself up.
juliana, darling, I am so glad bike dumpage did not result in damage to either your shiny new motorcycle or you. Now the first one's out of the way and you know what to expect.
Had mine yesterday, and I think it was the first one I ever went into without that feeling.
The niggling doubt has decreased every year, but I can't seem to make the damned thing go away completely. I know I do a good job, and I know I don't screw up, but my stomach doesn't listen to my head and riles up the butterflies anyway.
Last call: If anyone wants a postcard from Italy, reply in my LJ or forever hold your peace. The entry is flocked, so let me know if I need to add you. [link]