I'm trapped in a crappy Northern town. I don't have Popeye's either.
Amazingly, despite being in New England, I know of two Popeye's options. One in Kenmore Square in Boston (which is a weird bit of symmetry, because when I first came to Boston for college in '84, there was a Popeye's in Kenmore, though it didn't last much after I was in college, if that; last year a new one opened and the publicity was saying "First Popeye's in Boston" and I wondered "Liars, or short memories?").
There's also one on 95 Northbound at the Kennebunk, ME service/rest area. Sadly, it's Sbarro's on the Southbound, bastards. BK on both as well.
...and now I'm earwormed with Life in a Northern Town. And craving bad-for-me food.
I've been earwormed with "Papa Was a Rollng Stone" since I heard the opening of it on the radio this morning. They played it because of the opening line: It was the third of September / The day I'll always remember / For that was the day / That my daddy died...
Frack - no difinitive answers yet, but J may have leukemia. More tests, the poor pincushion. Frack, frack, frack.
Oh, Suzi, that's awful. So much ~ma.
Also job~ma for Tom, and Nora, I agree with Sparky. Go with.
In mememe news, this semester is gonna kick my ass. I have a funny feeling you won't be seeing as much of me over the next 8 months and 26 days! Insanity.
But, in good news, I'm cutting down to half therapy sessions. I haven't been using my entire sessions for about a month now, so we decided to cut down to 25 minutes. And we may cut back to every other week, but I wanted to get a few more weeks into the semester before we decide that. This feels like such a huge accomplishment, though it probably seems weird to anyone else.
Oh, Suzi, that's awful. So much ~ma.
Also job~ma for Tom, and Nora, I agree with Sparky. Go with.
Echoing all of these thoughts.
Oh, my. My nephew J started nursery school yesterday and already hit another student. When the teacher tried to explain to him that we don't hit and that he should clasp his hands in the shape of a heart to refrain from hitting. His response was, ''No, I hit.'' Good luck to her. He is an incredibly stubborn child.
IONephewN, nephew D made the tennis team! He worked very hard all summer to get fit enough to qualify.
His response was, ''No, I hit.''
Well, points for self-knowledge and honesty, I guess . . .
edit: And he knows that hitting is much more satisfying than not hitting. Good luck to teacher.
that reminds me of the time my nephew said (of his brother) "I'm going to hit him, I'm going to take a time-out and then I'm going to hit him again."
I think part of the problem with J is that he learned at a young age that he could push around D (9 years older and much bigger than J) and D won't fight back. So he has no fear. I think when he starts to spend time around other kids and learns they'll fight back, he'll back off.
