So the ether of pms just suddenly cleared! boom!
I could totally feel it happen. I’m happy.
No…not happy..JOYOUS. We’re returning to our regularly scheduled charm and mirth. I’ve laughed so much today, it’s infectious, it feeds itself. Sure, there’s a little schedenfreude in there, but really, when is my joy cake not frosted with schadenfreude tinted icing??
I’m back on top of my game, people. I’m in my crepe paper covered happy float in the joy parade throwing happy candy at your head. Watch out!!
ps I did NOT get any flowers, sad. I especially did not get any flowers from the specific person who owed me flowers. It’s okay, though, I’ll kill them with kindness.

Today I got elevated to the status of ‘verb’. Pretty sweet if you ask me!
Later goals include gerund and dangling participle.
If I do it right, my entire biography can be written like a Smurf script.

but without the prostitution, money, parties, train sex, or tighty whiteys. I’m all alone this weekend. Logic would dictate that if your ex is out of the house for the weekend this would open up the doors for all sorts of debauchery and craziness.
Aaaah, age has not been kind to me. This weekend I’ll be cleaning, doing laundry, making bread, going to a geek party and essentially chilling.
Also, I’ll be heading out to the cheering sections to cheer Jen on as she walks 3 days/60 miles for breast cancer research. Send your good mojo to Jen, she’ll need it!!

I’m tired, good long weekend. Lots of relaxing, hanging with the puppy, hanging with friends, knitting, and most importantly, stone cold chillin. Or something.
Song of the week is Guster’s Rocketship. It makes me tear up every time. Probably PMS time.
Though, Ben Harper’s Waiting on an Angel is a close second.
edit: That’s ‘tear up’ as in water coming out of my eyes, not ‘tear up’ like getting drunk and running through town square with covered in chocolate sauce and raisins.