Okay, since nobody else did, I have to ask how that worked...
Oh, a couple years ago I stayed in the Hollywood Roosevelt's haunted room and had a few minor things happen. Nothing that would impress Tobe Hooper, but until that point I'd never encountered anything of a supernatural nature that affected the physical environment at all, nor anything that couldn't be chalked up to hallucination or other tricks of the mind.
Another standout to me was the first bed-and-breakfast I ever stayed at, Etta's Place in Ft. Worth. Nice comfy rooms with lots of light, amazingly good breakfasts, and a library that most of this crowd would have wanted to move into.
Oh, dear god. First they sent me the head nurse, and then they sent me a psychiatrist.
This is becoming more and more ridiculous.
ita... did you threaten to kill someone with your pinky?
(All jokes aside, it sounds like they're really scrambling. ugh.)
Eating out is another big downfall for us. We're trying to be better about it, but there are still far too many nights where I get home from work and say "No, I don't want to cook."
see, that's what kills me. I like to cook. I probably make a full meal 4-5 times a week. I don't eat out because I don't want to cook, I eat out for the social factor. And I have that certain sector of six figure lawyer friends that like to go to expensive restaurants (sparky feels me on this). I like to go there too, I just shouldn't :)
Good heavens, ita. Did anyone tell them they're Not Helping!
ita, I am so sorry you're having to put up with all of this nonsense.
Just spent fifteen minutes being asked if pedophiles ever hit on me, why i spend all day and night sitting in a chair posting on teh net, and if any pervs ever contact me to ask if it's okay to stick a stake in one of my orafices.
I tried really, really, hard to play along. Now I feel like a jackass.
blinks
Okay, the Yahoo profile thing is getting zany. I just got email from a lady who likes to make crocheted Victorian-style accessories, like lace gloves and little purses. She's offering to make me some trinkets because she likes my writing.
This is after I got a book in the mail from Immanion Press to review. (I'm about halfway through it, and really like it so far.)
People! Telling me nice things about my writing and offering me shiny things! Someone tell me I'm not dreaming, okay?
sparky feels me on this
Yes, yes I do. Perhaps we need to start a cheap-eats-good-food club that meets once a month for the under-paid academic set.
Someone tell me I'm not dreaming, okay?
Not dreaming. Deserving!
