emilygee

I'm eating Cream of Mushroom soup at my desk (onion milk is listed as an ingredient... not sure how one milks an onion, but it's damn good).

I'm avoiding work like the plague (despite the pending projects and multiple press releases going out next week).

I'm desperately trying to update this fucking journal.

My company finally closed a sizable amount of funding, so we took yachts out on the Pacific last week in order to celebrate. Liquor was flowing, drunken polecat dancing ensued, and we partied like the dot com days of '96. (Insert party favor whistle here.)

Old friends are in town, however, it's funny how things have remained very much the same around here. No real adventures to speak of. We're all sort of flatlining right now....

...not good enough.

I purchased The Good Life's "Album of the Year" and it breaks my heart every time I press play. Tim Kasher makes me weak, weak, weak in the knees.

Have had the urge to have a good cry lately. Tough luck, though. I'm all dried up.