Riley ,'Lessons'
[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.
I counted three living rooms and two dining rooms, and I only saw a corner of the house. Seriously.
My sister used to teach at a women's junior college that shall remain nameless where one of the "things to do" was for the student, mother and grandmother to get matching fur coats. Every year.
Lots of heart ~ma for your MiL, Aimee.
DJ, sorry - I thought you meant THAT Elvis.
Health~ma to MM's mama.
Oh, Aims. All kinds of ~ma for Joe's mom, and for you both.
Why does anyone need more than one dining room?
Why does anyone need more than one dining room?
Well, you're certainly not going to let *those* people eat in the good dining room.
Toddson, no worries. I meant THE Elvis- at least to me. I just love his sarcastic, goofy-looking, rubber ankled, lyrical genius self.
The recruiter just called back -- they do want someone else, but they still don't want me; they strongly feel I wouldn't be a good match. I feel just sort of wretched and tainted and more and more like I'm going to end up exactly where I didn't want to be a few months ago, trapped into taking the high-paying data-manipulation-in-a-cave job on campus that I don't want but can't afford to not take, and there goes the next twenty years. Thank God there's no gin in the house.
JZ, I'm sorry they don't want you, but if they're saying you're not a good match then they know something (about themselves/the workplace) that you don't -- and probably don't want to find out. I don't think you should feel wretched, because it's about them, not you!
Aw, {{{{JZ}}}} I'm sorry, hon.
Oh, JZ. I'm sorry, babe. I'll keep vibing that the right job comes along, because I hate the idea of you taking a cave-job you'll hate.