"...are you saying I look like a fetus?"
Day went decently enough. Kevin was in a bit of a slump, which meant he spent a good chunk of the time bitching. Not just any type of bitchy, no; in our family, bitching is a sport. But, hey, we're odd like that.
Ma decided to waste about an hour of time by dragging out the old photo album of when I was a baby. It's kind of odd that there may be hundreds of pictures of you up until you're a year or three old, but after that you only really get bits from holidays. Or, at least, if those pictures are taken, they're buried in a shoebox somewhere in the basement or under the bed, and never make it to an actual album.
Even scarier, after 18 years, some of my expressions still haven't changed. Well, scary or funny, whatever.
Nicole and Colleen sucked me into watching Girl Interrupted. Nice movie. Wish those two didn't cry as much as they did through it. And, really, flipping out over the girl who hung herself being shown full-body? Uh, not to be callous, or to possibly sound like a sociopath, but it's really not that disturbing. Then again, I've had a good long time of being densensitized to blood, guts, and gore thanks to TV violence (yay Discovery Channel documentaries on lions!).
Ma's naming the new puppy Lizzie. Can't say I'm fond of the name, as Lizzie Tish is her favorite nickname for me when I'm bratty or snarky; it's like naming the dog Chelsie v2.0. Basil is SO a better name, and I'm sticking to that.
...Is it a bad thing that I REALLY am not looking forwards to grooming tomorrow? We have Mrs. B as a sub, and oh god if she isn't being a bitch she's whining to the other teachers over how we don't like her. Why has she not quit yet? Everyone'd enjoy it very much, even the teachers.
Ma decided to waste about an hour of time by dragging out the old photo album of when I was a baby. It's kind of odd that there may be hundreds of pictures of you up until you're a year or three old, but after that you only really get bits from holidays. Or, at least, if those pictures are taken, they're buried in a shoebox somewhere in the basement or under the bed, and never make it to an actual album.
Even scarier, after 18 years, some of my expressions still haven't changed. Well, scary or funny, whatever.
Nicole and Colleen sucked me into watching Girl Interrupted. Nice movie. Wish those two didn't cry as much as they did through it. And, really, flipping out over the girl who hung herself being shown full-body? Uh, not to be callous, or to possibly sound like a sociopath, but it's really not that disturbing. Then again, I've had a good long time of being densensitized to blood, guts, and gore thanks to TV violence (yay Discovery Channel documentaries on lions!).
Ma's naming the new puppy Lizzie. Can't say I'm fond of the name, as Lizzie Tish is her favorite nickname for me when I'm bratty or snarky; it's like naming the dog Chelsie v2.0. Basil is SO a better name, and I'm sticking to that.
...Is it a bad thing that I REALLY am not looking forwards to grooming tomorrow? We have Mrs. B as a sub, and oh god if she isn't being a bitch she's whining to the other teachers over how we don't like her. Why has she not quit yet? Everyone'd enjoy it very much, even the teachers.