HALP! Tweetbaggery.com has eated my brain.

Got scolded last Thursday for bad time management including "wasting hours" providing fresh seasonal flowers in the house where "no one sees them" (after getting lots of feedback about how wonderful they were from various visitors)(after getting lectured on making a good first impression to visitors). This morning there was a panic that there were no pretty flowers to be had for the former-executive-boardmember brunch.

My apartment is filled with forced hyacinths and saucer magnolia, thankyouverymuch. I look forward to the ranunculus and anemone that I'll be taking home once they begin to bloom. It will take me about two minutes to put them in a pretty basket and cover the soil with moss.

I want to hit things.

Not because I'm in a bad mood or anything.

Just because hitting things is fun and I haven't hit anything for a long time.

Miss that.

I own an iron. It's around here somewhere.

I own one, and I know exactly where it is, but I have convinced myself that it will blow up if I ever try to use it. (seriously--I've dropped it a few too many times)

There are nearly fifty bottles in there.

I'm also going to send a few more. I had hoped it would happen today, but tomorrow is now more likely.

Oh, is it possible to get polish without having anything to give? I would be all over that, if it's not too late.

Of course. I will put you on the list after Amy. I need your address.

(and your soul)

Is there a Chicago stop? I'd be up for giving and taking.

There isn't yet, but I will add you after Jesse. Send me your address, please.

Speaking of nail polish, my order from Fabulous Street arrived. Yes, I really did need a(nother) black with holographic glitter polish.

Sweet -- incoming, Perkins.

My nails are painted with a color called "Never Enough Shoes."

My nails are painted with a color called "Never Enough Shoes."

I have that one! It is a bit too subtle of a sparkle for me to wear all the time, tho'.

My nails are painted with a color called "Never Enough Shoes."

That reminds me of a much-loved quote from the much-maligned Ballistic: Ecks vs. Sever. "Some women buy shoes." I would prefer my weapons to outnumber my shoes, but I am willing to skimp on shoes to get by.

Oh Cash! I've seen those kinds of messages from Franny, but she usually puts them in her journal and leaves it for me to read it. Luckily, the "I love my mommy" messages outweigh the "I hate my mommy" ones.

We're just still recovering from the first "I HATE YOOOOOOOOUUUUUU" from a few months ago.

The first? I'm impressed. See above. We passed that milestone in preschool. At least now both kids are more likely to say they are angry or mad at me instead of saying they hate me.

You poor parents. Ruining lives left and right!