ILU, Sebastian the Newfoundland puppy.
I am surprised that I am not so exhausted right now, since I managed to stay up until 4am not getting very much accomplished except some text-messaging while I was trying to read An End to Suffering: The Buddha in the World. Around 3am. And Twittering to Elizabetsy who shares my dear nocturnal tendencies (although unlike me she managed to clean her room and actually finish her reading for class; I don't seem to be able to get more than halfway through any book for this class for any given reason). Maybe next week.
Did I mention that I read the entirety of Thirty Nights with a Highland Husband on Monday night, when I couldn't sleep? I felt the need to not take notes about people's insights on The Buddha in the world and instead write a quick review of it on my GoodReads page:
Thirty Nights with a Highland Husband by Melissa Mayhue
My review
rating: 4 of 5 stars
Sweet god, this was AMAZING. I mean, when you see a shirtless dude in a kilt (which did not exist in 13th century Scotland, I am pretty sure; I know they at least did not start with the family/clan specific tartans until centuries later) on the back cover, cavorting around with a lady in modern lingerie- you KNOW that only amazing things are going to exist within the pages.
Delicious, historically-inaccurate brain candy of the very best variety; I give it four stars of awesome for rollicking ridiculousness. Please enjoy responsibly. (Meaning with a glass of wine and some truffles or ice cream or something.)
View all my reviews.
I suppose this is my rebellion (my god, how wild and crazy am I) against the fact that should things have been different (re: the economy) I would be on a cruise ship at this very moment, traipsing around the Caribbean and maybe sleep deprived because I met Russell Brand and he correctly guessed my bra size, among other things, instead of being sleep deprived because I was a highly inefficient worker. (After reading My Booky Wook, this is a new life goal of mine, but probably ranked under collecting fauxconuts.)
Speaking of which, let's take a moment to admire my current fauxconut collection because the pictures yesterday just WERE NOT ENOUGH:
I'm feeling tropical.
Where I am not.
Where I am.
Conclusion: FML*.
In other news, I had a third smart thing that I did yesterday: opening my sun/moon (an aside I've been wondering about for a while- do you just decide which one you want to call it? is it even possible for there to be a difference? end transmission) roof after it had rained all day and then having water cascade down my face, all over my giant sunglasses and blinding me. Suddenly I found myself wishing that said giant sunglasses had, in fact, come with wipers as Mr. Morley suggested on one of my Facebook photos (and by Mr. Morley I do mean James's father and not James himself). Instead I had to sit there trying to wipe them clean with various objects found in my car. . .and then when I finally cleaned them and pulled forward, it just happened again. Two more times, before I finally closed it. Because I are smart.
I did eventually come home victorious, though. Today perhaps I go in search of the Haagen-Das Fleur De Sel Caramel ice cream
Hell yes this deserves its own visual aid of deliciousness
Which is also known as the nectar of the gods. I definitely go in search of my sweet-ass new coat, which I hope is languishing at the post office in wait for me. (Thank you, Vagina Drum for introducing me to the beauty and promise of this ice cream.)
Love from a Sarah
*FML is a fantastic website. You should go to it.
Did I mention that I read the entirety of Thirty Nights with a Highland Husband on Monday night, when I couldn't sleep? I felt the need to not take notes about people's insights on The Buddha in the world and instead write a quick review of it on my GoodReads page:
Thirty Nights with a Highland Husband by Melissa Mayhue
My review
rating: 4 of 5 stars
Sweet god, this was AMAZING. I mean, when you see a shirtless dude in a kilt (which did not exist in 13th century Scotland, I am pretty sure; I know they at least did not start with the family/clan specific tartans until centuries later) on the back cover, cavorting around with a lady in modern lingerie- you KNOW that only amazing things are going to exist within the pages.
Delicious, historically-inaccurate brain candy of the very best variety; I give it four stars of awesome for rollicking ridiculousness. Please enjoy responsibly. (Meaning with a glass of wine and some truffles or ice cream or something.)
View all my reviews.
I suppose this is my rebellion (my god, how wild and crazy am I) against the fact that should things have been different (re: the economy) I would be on a cruise ship at this very moment, traipsing around the Caribbean and maybe sleep deprived because I met Russell Brand and he correctly guessed my bra size, among other things, instead of being sleep deprived because I was a highly inefficient worker. (After reading My Booky Wook, this is a new life goal of mine, but probably ranked under collecting fauxconuts.)
Speaking of which, let's take a moment to admire my current fauxconut collection because the pictures yesterday just WERE NOT ENOUGH:
I'm feeling tropical.
Where I am not.
Where I am.
Conclusion: FML*.
In other news, I had a third smart thing that I did yesterday: opening my sun/moon (an aside I've been wondering about for a while- do you just decide which one you want to call it? is it even possible for there to be a difference? end transmission) roof after it had rained all day and then having water cascade down my face, all over my giant sunglasses and blinding me. Suddenly I found myself wishing that said giant sunglasses had, in fact, come with wipers as Mr. Morley suggested on one of my Facebook photos (and by Mr. Morley I do mean James's father and not James himself). Instead I had to sit there trying to wipe them clean with various objects found in my car. . .and then when I finally cleaned them and pulled forward, it just happened again. Two more times, before I finally closed it. Because I are smart.
I did eventually come home victorious, though. Today perhaps I go in search of the Haagen-Das Fleur De Sel Caramel ice cream
Hell yes this deserves its own visual aid of deliciousness
Which is also known as the nectar of the gods. I definitely go in search of my sweet-ass new coat, which I hope is languishing at the post office in wait for me. (Thank you, Vagina Drum for introducing me to the beauty and promise of this ice cream.)
Love from a Sarah
*FML is a fantastic website. You should go to it.