Tonight a man playing hard enough to make his hands bleed taught me how to play tambourine.
And for the third rate academics at fifth rate colleges who want to sound the death knell of my home, please take note of the above. You won't get it, you never will, but you should still take note.
So, twice in the span of an hour the other day I encountered people who were genuinely surprised that I hadn't signed up for food stamps. Once, while I was signing up for a gym.
In other news, I signed up for a gym. The rapture may now proceed as scheduled.
I definitely have a lot of things to hide, it's true. Nothing bad, though.
I sent you a friend request because I often run across your posts on the boards, and they're often snarking at someone that I would like to snark at but would just be frustrated and depressed after trying to engage in (snork, chortle) meaningful argument. So I'm glad and grateful that you seem to be doing it for me. Thanks.
Gas Turned On: Check
Stinky Car Towed: Check
Whole Foods Reopened: Check
Adjuster; Competent, Present, and Local: Check
Sarongs: En Route
Refrigerators: Ditto
My daughter likes brass bands (even painfully late ones) and the letter "K".
That is all.
Edit: Actually, thats not all, my sarongs have reappeared from USPS limbo. Its a bit too cool to wear them now, three months after I ordered them, but they will be in my hot little hands in a matter of days. Woot.