Damnit. Now I want a kitten.

Turned 26 yesterday. Pretty much napped the day away today ( Read more... )

This is my current definition of adulthood: Everything takes twice as long as you expected, except the fun stuff, which only takes half as long as you'd hoped.

I have lime green paint between my toes.

And on my arms.

And under my nails.

And probably in my hair.

But my new room is looking awesome, and that's gonna make this move a whole lot easier.

- I'm not good at being mean. It gets me into trouble if I don't speak up for myself.

-Communication, communication, communication. It's terribly important. Communicate with the right people, at the right time.

-Living with Lillie with rock my face off.

-I think I like being a music director. I love my "Pirates of Penzance" kids.

I'm moving into the Robot House.

I pretty sure we're both angry and pissed and hurt and all that. I need to call her, as the voicemail from my landlord I'm too scared to listen to can atest. Problem is, would she even answer my call? And even if she did, what do I say? What can I possibly say that will result in a positive outcome on both sides? What can I possibly say that won't ( Read more... )

Overheard, at Jones' Food Center:

"...Well, if that's the champagne of beers, then PBR is the guerrilla warfare of beers."

Turns out it wasn't my RF modulator. It's my DVD player. Boo.

I don't know why, but I think God just smote the bejesus out of my RF modulator.