I was confused too, meara. You are looking at bunching the morning of the 25th? Darn it - we are going down to Monterey that day. If you do anything the Friday night before - give a holler.
Spike's Bitches 37: You take the killing for granted.
[NAFDA] Spike-centric discussion. Lusty, lewd (only occasionally crude), risqué (and frisqué), bawdy (Oh, lawdy!), flirty ('cuz we're purty), raunchy talk inside. Caveat lector.
Fuck Fuck Fuck.
Emmett's godmother has breast cancer.
Karen was the first girl I fell in love with when we were sixteen in high school. We never stopped being friends. Her husband, Frank, and I played tennis together every weekend for four years. I love both of her children dearly, and they treat Emmett as their brother.
Karen and Frank gave me $500 when I couldn't pay for my first marriage. I spent all my Thanksgivings with them in San Francisco for fifteen years. She was the first person to babysit Emmett after he was born. She was the first person we left him when he was a toddler. He loves her and knows her as family.
She has one of the best and happiest and healthiest families I've ever seen. It is pure pleasure to have dinner at their house and watch the banter ring around the table.
The tricky part is going to be convincing her that she could never ask too much of me.
Some -ma for her, please, and prayers if you've got them.
Oh, Hec, that sucks. Much~ma for her.
Aw shit, David. Sorry to hear that.
Lots of ~ma for Karen, Hec.
Sorry I missed you, sj. Got on a cleaning kick for a bit and then lap attacked by the cat. Heading to bed now because purring cat in lap is making me sleepy.
Hec--here's wishing stage one, no-chemo-required cancer to her.
Hec--here's wishing stage one, no-chemo-required cancer to her.
I'll drink to that. Thanks, all.
Hec, may it be as minimally horrible as possible. I'm so sorry.
Oh, shit, Hec. I hate cancer.
Health-ma to Karen