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'.
'Our Mrs. Reynolds'
Off-topic discussion. Wanna talk about corsets, pandas, duct tape, or physics? This is the place. Detailed discussion of any current-season TV must be whitefonted.
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!
Ruining lives left and right!
Jesse, you misspelled rooining.
(By the way, I was skimming like the skimmingest skimmer in skimmerville, so if I missed someone who wants to be on the polish list, please email me or hit me upside the head, or something).
Distant aunties only get good notes. Works for me.
I don't know, my niece sent my brother (her uncle) a letter saying he broke up the family by moving to Minneapolis. I guess I'm lucky she had aged a few years before I moved out here. (Naturally, the orginal letter is still on my brother's fridge.)
Awww. THAT"s what ruined (or rooined) his life, Cash? Poor baby will learn. (Insert evil laughter here)
I went and saw more houses. I reallllllly want to take the top two floors of one house, and add it to the bottom floor of another house. Or something. It had a goooooorgeous master suite thing, and a beautiful kitchen/living/dining....but the first floor of bedrooms was bleh, and the entrance with garage was freaky--it had this little under-stairs room that was supposed to be an office, but was very "I'm going to chain up Harry Potter and make him live here".
Now I want new nail polish AND new shoes.
I'm happy to report that jury duty is finally over.