Remember how I used to post less-than-flattering pictures of myself to entertain Rio? (Possibly you don't. Well, I did, way back in the WorldCrossing days.) In that vein, here I am, trying to keep a migraine from taking hold: [link] What a sad critter I am.

It may not be flattering - but you look about 12

Matt is emptyng the garage. I seem to be cooking all the food in the world

but you look about 12

There's got to be a portrait of me in the attic that looks 42. Also, I assume it doesn't have a headache.

I would think that it would be handier to have a portrait that has a headache! The picture looks like a little girl with the mumps (because of the cloth thing on your head!)

I was on vacation this week, and my BFF's kids were at camp, so we did things like go to the zoo, and to a petting zoo, and watch Twin Peaks. We have fun together, but we have all sorts of whacky miscommunications because she is very straightforward, and takes everything that way, and I take things like they have deep underlying meaning, and also say things that way.

Also, I think "Tony's Birdland and Pizza" is a funny name for a restaurant. I mean, just mildly amusing in that Birdland is not a type of food. We spent about 15 minutes of her explaining why it is called that (which I actually already knew) and me trying to explain how it was funny (which never works!)

Sometimes my volunteers surprise the heck out of me. One girl, maybe 13, has been coming off and on for the past two years. Today as she was being picked up, she came dashing back with her little sister, maybe 8. They had a pretty wooden box and started talking about lemonade selling, and for a moment I thought they were going to ask me to contribute to girl scout cookies or something. Then they said that they were raising money to donate to the arb, and opened the box to reveal an assortmant of dollars and coins.

I was floored.

I took them over to the donation box and me and their dad got lots of phone pics of them stuffing their money in.

Whether they came up with the idea on their own or their parents prodded them, every now and then I get a glimpse of how much this place to means to the folks around here and I get all over mushy and never want to leave.

my a/c is broken. I hate everything.

How did people live, let alone survive, before air conditioning? This week I've wanted to just wander the neighborhood and assault contractors with plastic cups and a 5 gallon jug of iced water.

Holy crap, just heard the older foster kid (7) next door screaming that she wanted to kill herself, followed by a smack, and the door slamming.

Okay, so what makes you feel like someone punched you in the larynx? Because I'm sitting here, unpunched, and my throat keeps firing off like it's in extreme pain but nothing is happening. This is fucking weird.

Holy crap, Juliebird and ita_! I don't have answers for either of you.