So, Rosie, at what point do you actually become bionic? 'Cause I think that would be pretty cool. I would quit my job and follow you around making the nanananana bionic noise, if you let me.
And bummer on the possible-just-friends thing. I mean, yay friend, but still. I’ve decided that it happens when a woman is just too damn cool. Men find it intimidating and decided to just be friends because there’s no way they’ll ever be as cool as you. At least, that’s what I tell myself. ![]()
swampy, Bambi vs. Godzilla is one of my all-time favorites. Thanks for the link! It’s the claw-flex at the end that always gets me.
Anybody who doesn’t feel good, feel better!
I’ve made my holiday list. Not the lists of presents, simply the list of things I have to do. I’ve got itemized, day-to-day lists going right up to December 23rd. Cleaning, shopping, various other errands … oy. Today, let’s see … clean out the car (for the trip to Maryland tomorrow night), buy wrapping paper, wrap gifts, put my laundry away, copy a few more CDs onto my computer (because I deleted every shred of music on my hard drive–don’t ask, there was a good reason), and pack for the weekend. Not a lot, but enough for one night. It’s next week that will involve the mopping and the dusting and the other things I really don’t like to do. Ick.
But it all ends with a big party, and then my birthday, which I’m feeling considerably cheerier about–I bought new flannel jammies for Roomie and myself (mine have little hippie babushka dolls on them!), and there will be pancakes, and almost certainly a marathon of some tv show or another while we lounge on the couches. I’ve had worse birthdays. ![]()

