It's still early evening. I want to write, but can't seem to get words down on paper for the stuff I want to be writing. Watching the second episode of Top Chef: Just Desserts made me crave margaritas. I have margarita mix, ice, and tequila. And I don't have to be anywhere until 10 tomorrow
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Holy crap, last night was just... a wonderful evening of hand-holding and ice cream and the invigorating discussion of mutual interests. :)
Lol, sorry, my dad walked by. I could go back and erase what I wrote while he was here, but I think it's kind of funny. Daddy is sweet, but the less he knows about what we get up to, the better. (Tony wouldn't care, but I can't imagine talking to him about it. And he'd probably tell dad.)
Anyway. Like I said, last night was pretty awesome. I feel like I should be more shy about it, all, "Oh, I hope it was good for you!" But I'm not that kind of girl, and I think if I was you probably wouldn't have wanted to do what we did last night. I'm nothing if not my fathers' daughter. What you see is what you get with Sally Stark-Rogers.
But I do hope it was good for you. Not because I'm insecure, but because I like you a lot and I want us to do it again. Frequently.
So give me a call, Mr. Grayson. And thanks for a great time.
<3 <3
~Sally
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