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Yes, I realize it hasn't been that long since I posted for yesterday, but I'm disturbed. Veeeeerrrry disturbed.
I dreamed that I was dating Michael Jackson.
...
I'll just sit over here and let that sink in for a bit.
( Hey, subconscious? Next time you send me a dead icon to make out with, could it maybe be Cary Grant, please? Thanks. )
I have a new favorite pair of jeans. Who here loathes jeans shopping, raise your hand? I tend to find a pair I like and wear them until they fall apart. So when I found The Boyfriend Jean at Ann Taylor Loft, I thought I'd died and gone to heaven. I went to their website today to order another pair, and guess what? SOLD OUT. They say they may still have them in the stores, not that it does me any good because there isn't an Ann Taylor Loft in Amarillo. *bats eyelashes at my mother who lives in Arlington* Flipping figures, right?
Also, my left hand is gimpy. I don't know if it's from all the typing, or what, but it aches something fierce. Send good thoughts, please.
Last thing... the howling at the beginning of Thriller freaks Katie out. Join the club, sister. I remember being in Melissa Lovell's living room, listening to that record for the first time (I think we were in the fourth grade) and almost peeing my pants when Vincent Price started cackling at the end. I know I screamed. I was a dork even back then. ;)
I dreamed that I was dating Michael Jackson.
...
I'll just sit over here and let that sink in for a bit.
( Hey, subconscious? Next time you send me a dead icon to make out with, could it maybe be Cary Grant, please? Thanks. )
I have a new favorite pair of jeans. Who here loathes jeans shopping, raise your hand? I tend to find a pair I like and wear them until they fall apart. So when I found The Boyfriend Jean at Ann Taylor Loft, I thought I'd died and gone to heaven. I went to their website today to order another pair, and guess what? SOLD OUT. They say they may still have them in the stores, not that it does me any good because there isn't an Ann Taylor Loft in Amarillo. *bats eyelashes at my mother who lives in Arlington* Flipping figures, right?
Also, my left hand is gimpy. I don't know if it's from all the typing, or what, but it aches something fierce. Send good thoughts, please.
Last thing... the howling at the beginning of Thriller freaks Katie out. Join the club, sister. I remember being in Melissa Lovell's living room, listening to that record for the first time (I think we were in the fourth grade) and almost peeing my pants when Vincent Price started cackling at the end. I know I screamed. I was a dork even back then. ;)
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