McWanton.
I was catching up on Grey's tonight, and the episode in which the car salesman blows up his face by having a cigarette opens with my favorite Camera Obscura song. (They're coming to play here on Jan 26th, and I sure am going to be there, shaking my finger.) It's nice when your favorite things combine to create one magnanimous lot of good. A while back, I had a good routine surrounding the watching of Grey's -- watching med students have sex, vice versa -- but derby scrimages have monopolized that spot nowadays.
Rollerskating is a good way to remind yourself that you have quads. I'm also stretching a large muscle that runs up the inside of my right thigh; the only visualization I have for it is when you put up those 3M tacky strips, and to remove them you pull down that white sticky tab until it snaps and whaps your fingers with plastic.
I have no idea where I was going with that.
I'm a terrible skater and won't pass my Level 1s for months, but it's fun, still, and keeps me from working too late. I think it's important to be thoroughly bad at something.
Things with that dude are whatever. I'm feeling rather nest-y, so I'm bringing frozen grapes and thread to his house on Friday and we're going to watch Christmas cartoons and string yard garland and pretend that we're both not wishing we were doing so with a more permanent fixture in our respective relationships.
Hey, crafty folk, you should pick up the winter issue of Country Home and then check out the projects on their site for PDFs. I just learned I'm hosting x-mas here and these goodies may salvage my fest-less apartment. Will my mother ever be proud, seriously.
Rollerskating is a good way to remind yourself that you have quads. I'm also stretching a large muscle that runs up the inside of my right thigh; the only visualization I have for it is when you put up those 3M tacky strips, and to remove them you pull down that white sticky tab until it snaps and whaps your fingers with plastic.
I have no idea where I was going with that.
I'm a terrible skater and won't pass my Level 1s for months, but it's fun, still, and keeps me from working too late. I think it's important to be thoroughly bad at something.
Things with that dude are whatever. I'm feeling rather nest-y, so I'm bringing frozen grapes and thread to his house on Friday and we're going to watch Christmas cartoons and string yard garland and pretend that we're both not wishing we were doing so with a more permanent fixture in our respective relationships.
Hey, crafty folk, you should pick up the winter issue of Country Home and then check out the projects on their site for PDFs. I just learned I'm hosting x-mas here and these goodies may salvage my fest-less apartment. Will my mother ever be proud, seriously.