A bored housewife jousts at windmills, pokes fun at everything from leg wax to Miss Manners.
Michael has a rule about chick flicks. We only see them at the theater on our anniversary. This works out well for us. I prefer watching chick flicks at home by myself anyway. I want to be able to cry unabashedly if the need should arise in me. Also, if I don’t drag my husband …
My hubby loves his colas. See his post here.
Good News – I just wrote a nice long post. Bad News – I hadn’t hit the save button yet when Windows locked up. I lost the whole damn thing. Argh! Good News – I am rewriting it. Bad News – It won’t be exactly the same. Good News – I can insist the original …
I dreamed the other night of making bologna sandwiches. You’d think an oracle of my station would have much more interesting dreams. But, sadly, no. Just the sandwich thing, and a leaky roof dream. But, it occurs to me, maybe these dreams aren’t supposed to mean anything to me personally. Maybe I’m like Nostradamus, and …
If you aren’t sure whether you are in love or not, you aren’t in love. That is all.
I haven’t felt much like writing these past few days. I’m depressed. Am I suffering from a severe case of election day blues?* No. I’m afraid this goes much deeper than politics. Does it have to do with my not getting to take Charlotte trick or treating this year, because she spent Halloween with her …