There's something that doesn't make sense. Let's go and poke it with a stick.
Every time you see them happy, you remember how sad they're going to be. And it breaks your heart. Because what's the point in them being happy now if they're going to be sad later? And the answer is, of course, because they're going to be sad later.
The way I see it, every life is a pile of good things and bad things. The good things don’t always soften the bad things, but vice versa the bad things don’t always spoil the good things and make them unimportant.
Do you know, in nine hundred years of time and space I’ve never met anyone who wasn’t important before.
If it’s time to go, remember what you’re leaving. Remember the best. My friends have always been the best of me.
Stood in a shortish kind of line at Starbucks today; the woman ahead of me had a long and complicated order, which was no big deal, but I heard the women behind me chatting and one sighed, "I really should have planned this out better. I'm going to be late for work." Since I had no where I needed to be, I told them to go ahead of me, I was in absolutely no hurry. Cut to a few hours later when I went into Burger King: one of those women was working the counter, and remembered me. Instead of the small drink I ordered, she gave me a GigantiCup. After all the tea I had at 'Bucks, I'll be floating through the rest of the day.
While I was sitting there in Starbucks, Josh, the guy who owns Algood Ink sat down at a nearby table and was working on a piece of artwork. I don't know if it was for a custom tattoo or if he was just creaitng some art, but it made me really want to get my next tattoo.
I know what I want, I don't know why I haven't just gone and gotten it.
WTF is it with all the spam comments lately? I try to keep on top of them, but they're getting pretty bad, especially on Max's blog. I don't want to limit who can comment, but I have a feeling that pretty soon I'm going to have to cut off Anonymous commenting. I hate that; I hate limiting comments in any way, which is why I don't have immediate moderation on comments and have always allowed comments from everyone, and have never used word verification. That last one...I'll only go to that as an absolute last resort, because it sucks.
The Boy's Polar Plunge is coming up soon; in six days he's giving away a spiffy Bulova womens' watch. It's two-toned, shiny and spiffy, quite classy, and retails for a little over $300. If he hits his goal he's jumping as Princess Peach...and he's only $555 away from reaching it. I do hope he's already ordered his dress.
I want pizza.
But not like RIGHT THIS MINUTE. Sometime this weekend.
I kind of feel bad for whining about feeling cold when the east coast is getting slammed with another major, major winter storm, but...I'm freaking cold right now.
The Spouse Thingy is in the garage playing with his wood.
Yes, I'm that immature.
Back to 'Bucks tomorrow...getting very close to finishing this manuscript, plus it beats the hell out of housework, even though the house looks like it barfed all over itself and needs a good cleaning. If you promise to sit there quietly, you can come watch me work tomorrow.
It's exciting! Really it is!
2/08/2013 04:35:00 PM
This entry was posted on 2/08/2013 04:35:00 PM
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