'Serenity'
Off-topic discussion. Wanna talk about corsets, duct tape, or physics? This is the place. Detailed discussion of any current-season TV must be whitefonted.
Honestly, I may never be able to live with someone else ever again. I'm moody and impatient and introverted and not real energetic, and I've lived by myself too long to easily accommodate someone else in my space.
Right there with you. Behind my well-defined boundaries that I control access through, I mean.
My few remaining true love fantasies involve a wonderful man living in a house next door.
I'm married and I still fantasize about this. In my fantasy, he and the kids have a house and I have an apartment over the garage.
When my kids were little, I totally fantasized about having my own tiny little apartment, where everything was white and there were no toys. AND IT WAS QUIET.
My fantasies involve a weekend vacation away from kids, no cooking, and nothing work related. As reasonable as that sounds, it has never happened and isn't likely to happen any time in the foreseeable future. oh well. depressed now.
Amy, one of the houses on the Home Tour I went on in October had been extensively remodeled with the husband actually doing most of the work rather than hiring contractors or whatever. One of the things he did was turn a tiny garage into a tiny studio for his wife with a murphy bed, frilly decor (because that's what she wanted and it didn't go with the rest of the house) and a bathroom - so she would have a retreat all her own. All of us on the tour were jealous.
I would like everything but the frills, please.
Right now, my fantasies are limited to my parents and in-laws finding somewhere other than the bottom of the stairs right below my kids bedroom to talk loudly about what's causing my kids to misbehave.
And when I brought up the fact that sound carries and Dylan can hear every word they're saying, my mother chewed me out for not bringing it up earlier, "before blowing up at everyone."
Oh, and one of my credit card numbers was stolen. Fuck this weekend.
Oh Jess, that's not fair. I'm sorry.
This is the week of potato fail. The mashed potatoes at T-day dinner were gluey. The potato pancakes I tried to make with them (twice!) were an epic fail.Luckily we can just blend them up for Grace.
I have no idea what I did to make my right thigh sore as all fuck today, but now I worked outside for about 90 minutes today and my feet ache and my legs are both sore.
and christmas lights are not working and mac won't help with things and and and.