I had one of those weird ideas in my head that I had to clear the driveway so that Daniel could come home.... He's not. It's much safer, found him a hotel room that wasn't hideously spendy, and to be honest, I'm still worried about the prospects of him trying to drive home tomorrow. But still, weird feeling, completely irrational.
You wanna give my sister a call? She's playing a concert in Appleton tonight and I have to yet to be able to convince her not to drive home afterwards. That trip is awful in any kind of bad weather, and she's in a car that is likely to give up the ghost at any moment. And she has one of my credit cards in her pocket.
Maybe 14? That was 2002, so she's 22 or 23.
Hot cocoa sounds good. Am watching Naomi Klein's "Shock Doctrine" and am getting more depressed. Might be time for hot cocoa and Nightmare Before Christmas, or Chrismukkah.
Cocoa: need to whinge a bit more. I just discovered poison ivy of my left boob. Maybe the oil got on my hands when I undressed and from there to my boob? IDEFK.
You wanna give my sister a call?
Sure, I can give it a try....
Cocoa: need to whinge a bit more. I just discovered poison ivy of my left boob. Maybe the oil got on my hands when I undressed and from there to my boob? IDEFK.
Ok, now, that's the point at which I'd have gone bugnuts crazy, screaming and throwing things. You deserve a whinge or three. In fact, I would venture to suggest you deserve a full-fledged rant, if you want it.
Smonster, what WS said. You poor thing.
No energy for a rant. Whinging will have to suffice.
In randomness, I got an Xmas card with no return address and just signed, I believe, "Brett." I don't know any Bretts that I can recall. Maybe it's not Brett, but I don't know what it could be.
Dana, that link took me to a sign in page.
We're watching Jamie Oliver on the Cooking Channel, and he just poured custard all over a dessert. I want custard. Is it May yet?
