'Our Mrs. Reynolds'
[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 had horrific dreams that The Girl was on Death Row. For filesharing.
*So* impressed with Bonny and Zen (and Laga) about giving blood. You're awesome. (My Girl has needle problems of the same kind, so I can understand it a bit.) Are you going to get sponsored, while you're at it? Seems like a good opportunity to raise money for the Red Cross too!
Sleep~ma, Hil.
Best of luck to you, Hil.
I'm awake b/c B called thinking he'd get my voicemail and we talked for about 45 min. So my mood is improved but I'm not sure I can get back to sleep. Need to try, though.
A friend I just got back in touch with via FB has put me in touch with another friend of his who lives in town. He thinks we'll get along. Very sweet of him. He actually lives in Somerville now, coincidentally.
Right. Sleep.
rah rah rah! Go Bonny Go! You can do it! So well in fact, even Zen can do it too! Go Zen Go! Give blood ya! Rah Rah Rah!
(OK, I confess, I never really heard what cheerleaders say. I..um.. well, ya know, check out there... ya. um.)
ION! Awesome news Hil! Get some rest. You will be fabulous! Positive thoughts will result in positive results! And you have the power of the ~ma behind you!
IOON- I have assembled 20 boxes. Haven't packed any yet, but I have taped 20 of them together. Ready to receive a ton of books. Also, I got a kick ass tape gun for this move. So much better than the crappy lil "starter kit" tape gun I got for the last move. Oh ya, Christmas Presents will be wrapped REAL tight this year!
more good interview ~ma out there for ya, Hil.
I'm awake b/c B called thinking he'd get my voicemail and we talked for about 45 min
Whooo! When is he coming down to New Orleans as part of the mass migration?
Working on it, Nora. He did ask me "When are we going to New Orleans again?"
Wallybee's parents are heading back to China in about a week and a half. On Saturday we're having Ryan's first birthday party. We're giving them one of those photo frames with a central photo, and a ring of twelve spaces surrounding it for monthly photos. Here are the photos we've selected, Ryan's first year:
When we first met: [link]
May: [link]
June: [link]
July: [link]
August: [link]
September: [link]
October: [link]
November: [link]
December: [link]
January: [link]
February: [link]
March: [link]
We don't yet have his 1-year old photo. This is what we have holding its place: [link]
Ryan has become cuter every month despite being impossibly cute to start with!
Ryan has become cuter every month despite being impossibly cute to start with!
It feels simultaneously astonishing and inevitable.
The worst I've seen have all worked at hospitals.
The nurses at my doctor's office will confirm this. (When I showed the phlebotomist there my bruises from the shitty IV placements, she just shook her head and muttered something about "those hospital nurses." Which is a group that includes my mother, so I supposed I should take offense at the generalization, but seriously, my ENTIRE ARM was black and blue.)