Good morning, all. This weekend went well. My sister came in for the weekend. I smoked some ribs on Saturday, which turned out well. I served them with baked beans and corn on the cob. Sunday involved hanging out and doing not much at all, except reading, while Mrs Magill and Fang drove down to Texas. Much to her disappointment, The Duke, Sam Peckinpaugh, John Cassavetes, and Lee Marvin didn’t join them with a case of whiskey.
My sister just left a few hours ago. She’s taking the drive home easy and will visit a friend in Asheville tonight.
I brought Fang on board on Saturday. Mrs Magill was getting irritated that I kept putting it off. He was like, “Yeah - okay. Whatever.” He did ask a few follow-up questions unprompted in front of his mother, so she knows we’ve talked.
I’ve got an appointment at the wig shop for tomorrow afternoon. I’ll send my sister pictures, so she may share her opinion. I’m kinda excited to have new hair for my counselling session on Wednesday and the meeting Saturday. I’m also meeting someone tonight to talk about how they were able to keep their marriage together after coming out.
My first furniture that I bought… I think that would be a TV stand for my apartment in college.
Coppertone - good luck on the interview.
taters - I had four years of German in High School. By the time I graduated, I would occasionally have dreams in German, and I was told by a native that I had a good, Munich accent. I then took German 101 & 102 in college for the easy A, and I have not spoken it since. I can still mostly understand it. My high school teacher was a hardass with very high standards, but thanks to him, I knew how to work hard in college. I consider my high school German experience as “Type II Fun” - not fun at the time, but I’m glad I did it after the fact.
Lily, 52, & FCM - Yellowjackets are frickin’ evil little buggers. When I was eleven, I was riding my dirt bike through the woods, and somehow found a swarm with my face. My mother counted twelve stings. Then at seventeen, I was hiking on a mountain with some friends. One was having trouble getting down a steep bit, so I was helping him. When he got down, I took a step backwards into a nest. The paramedic counted forty-two stings on my leg. Forty-two. My last encounter was about sixteen years ago - I was transplanting a rosemary bush which had a nest under it - six stings on my foot. I hate them almost as much as I hate the Tarheels.