With windows, and doors, and walls, and plumbing, and rooms, and a yard, and oh my god, I'm about to own my own house.
I'm changing locales in August - I've known that since I moved to New Orleans to start work, three weeks before Katrina. Two years have -flown- by, and sometime in March, I started seriously considering the impending move back
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I sense a theme here, given your recent LJ post. :) Let's see if this works.... (Edit: It works a lot better when I get the coding right.)
Rodney looks at John. John looks at Rodney. They're standing there, in the hallway outside his door. Rodney's spent three-hours hip-deep in sewage and seawater. His fingers ache. Everything aches. His only consolation is that Sheppard looks worse. It's crappy consolation.
"For the record," he scowls, "this? May be the worst first date ever."
"Buck up," Sheppard mutters. "It'll get better."
"Oh? What do you know that I don't?" Rodney's chin tilts belligerently.
Sheppard opens the door, pushes Rodney through. Three words, hot and dirty against his ear, and Rodney's outlook improves dramatically. "I put out."
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And hey, you're moving back to my neck of the woods! You'll have to come to the next fangirl night at Chez Beeej!
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2) YAY! I'm glad you approve - thank you for playing. These are lots of fun.
3) I would -love- to - thanks for the invite!
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