January 28, Houston: The book launch party for Lone Star Legend is at Brazos Bookstore, at 7 PM. Y'all are all invited!
February 4, Houston: I'll be reading/signing at the downtown Houston Public Library, at 6 PM.
February 5, Austin: I'll be reading/signing at BookPeople and will undoubtedly stop by the FlipHappy crepe trailer some time after that.
February 5, San Antonio: I'll be reading/signing at the San Pedro Barnes and Noble and will probably buy some coconut candy at Mi Tierra, too.
My other blog: Go read my the Houston Chronicle parenting blog (or my ChronMomBlog, as I like to call it) and find out what I've said to piss off the more conservative commenters this week.
Buy my new novel, Lone Star Legend.
Thursday, August 28, 2008
And also, you kids get off my lawn.Today I did one of those things that Houston park'n'ride bus riders sometimes do: I hitched a ride with a strangers so we could take the HOV lane. Hurray!
(Don't worry. There's a complex social structure in place. I follow the structure and refrain from getting killed.)
I like to do the Spontaneous Stranger Carpool because I have the most interesting conversations that way. Today, it turned out that none of the three of us strangers had our degrees. And, I'm not saying this because I want to encourage you youngsters not to get your degrees, but...
...but, um, why the hell am I worried about encouraging kids to get their degrees? That's what we talked about today. Why are kids, lately, made to feel like getting a degree is the only was on Earth they'll ever get jobs? It's just not true.
I feel almost hypocritical for saying this, because many people have heard me say in real life that inner city schools sucked for not exposing poor students to the idea of college.
I do still believe that all school counselors should talk to all students about college. But I don't believe that's the only thing they should talk about.
The facts are that not everyone is cut out to go to college, not everyone wants a white collar job, and even if everyone did, there wouldn't be enough white collar jobs to go around. There are gazillions of jobs that don't require degrees, but you wouldn't know that to hear the way Generation Y (or whatever they're called) is getting indoctrinated.
One of my fellow 'poolers said she thinks that not only are kids brainwashed into college at any cost these days, but they're also made to believe that if they don't get promoted every two years, they should quit their jobs. She cited the college-or-loser mentality as the reason behind increases in high turnover and low morale in Corporate America.
I don't know if I'd go that far, but it was interesting to hear her opinion.
I have to say that it took a while before each of us in the car admitted that we didn't have degrees. But once one of us did, the others quickly followed suit. It was funny that we didn't feel comfortable saying it -- that we were all obviously used to keeping that fact on the down low.
And yet we each had good, long-time careers in profitable industries.
We talked about the Air Force and the Navy. We talked about vocational and trade schools and how you just don't hear as much about them anymore.
And... that's all. That's all I wanted to tell y'all about that. That, and I like talking to strangers in the HOV lane -- connecting with them without learning their names. It's fun.
Workplace Magazine Centerfold
I hate it when you work at a big company and other people who work there think they're celebrities because they work on a certain floor or in a certain department.
Like, the other day, Jane Doe's assistant called me and told me to come pick up something Jane Doe had for me. I said, "Okay. Where do you sit?"
She made an audible throat emission of scorn and said, "In front of Jane Doe's office."
And I had to laugh, and I said, "Okay. Would you mind telling me where Jane Doe sits?"
And she acted like I had just fallen off a turnip truck full of lobotomized people or something. Because I didn't know where Jane Doe's office was. Because.... Why? I don't know. Who the hell is Jane Doe? Do you know where she sits? No, why would you? Why would anyone? I'm sure Jane's a really nice person, but she's not famous, as far as I know. Or else, as I said later to a coworker, "Is there some celebrity magazine about the celebrities who work here that I forgot to subscribe to?"
I think, if you get all your life's importance from the belief that you sit in front of an office that everyone in your company should know the location of, then maybe you should look at a globe or something and remind yourself how big the effing world is.
Same day, some person got angry to the point of rudeness because I didn't know she was the boss of some other person. And she made reference to her department's org chart and the copy of it she was certain I must have (but that I didn't). And I thought, "That org chart must be in every issue of the magazine that I'm not getting that is specially designed for people who have nothing in their lives other than this job and their perceived positions on the hierarchies that exist in the lower echelons here from 8 to 5." Because, otherwise, I can't imagine why I would have another department's org chart, or why anyone would expect me to know her place on it, unless she was really insecure and solipsistic. (Or just stupid.) (Or all three.)
If I found out there was such a magazine about my workplace, I'd read a few issues, but only in my dentist's office, for free, and only to laugh at it.
Except that it probably wouldn't even be funny.
Part of me wants to pity these people. But most of me hates them because they're rude. I hate rudeness. It's hard for me to care about people who don't have manners. Especially when they're also miserable people who spend their time trying to make others miserable, too. You know?
But it won't work on me, because I don't want to be miserable. And my happiness isn't based on who I'm allowed to boss around from 8 to 5.
Thank God for that.
(Some day a real rain will come, and I won't have to work a day job anymore.)
flotsam
1. It's hard to feel it in Houston -- you have to wake up early in the morning to feel it, or else you have to pay attention to the refraction of the sun's rays -- but fall is in the air.
I'm happy just for that, because fall ("Autumn") is my absolute favorite season.
2. I had the flu on Monday and Tuesday. I might still have it now, but only Monday and Tuesday were bad enough to stay home. And they were pretty bad. I only get sick once a year, and it's always the flu. And I always get very, very sick for two days, and then I'm good enough to go back to work after that.
I like to do things quickly like that. I like to get sick quick and get well quick. Get drunk quick and get sober quick. Get emotional quick and get over it quick. I like that kind of efficiency. That's what fits into my schedule best.
3. I had to rent a marimba today. This weekend, I have to shell out a gazillion dollars for percussion instruments and percussion instrument accessories for one of my brats. I hope he enjoys learning percussion and that he sticks with it for life. He might. It's worth the cost, that possibility.
4. My brother-in-law and I pledged to start a cover band. (He's actually my future brother-in-law, but it's easier just to say it like it's already happening. It may as well be, for all intents and purposes.) (Not the dentist brother-in-law -- the other one. Let's call the other one... the wise-ass, drunken-ass, half-breed-ass, cold-blooded-ass, funny one. No.... Let's just call him the other one.)
So, okay, we were drinking when we made our plan. But we were also singing karaoke (my in-laws are Asian, so they have a karaoke system in every room of all their houses), so that makes it much more serious.
And.... What was I talking about? Oh, yeah -- we share an appreciation of Everclear in which my fiance does not indulge. That right there is practically an obligation to start a band, as far as I'm concerned.
5. I keep telling people I'll give them copies of my kids' book, or sell them copies, or sign their copies, but then I never get around to it. Okay, you know how we can fix that, people? If everyone comes to my Official Book Party for Growing Up with Tamales, in October, at MECA, which is in Houston's neartown west-end inner loop whatever-o region. More details on that when I look them up in my gmail and then post them in that section at the top of this page.
Oh, and also, I'll be at Houston's Latino Book Fair in September, of course. On Sunday, not Saturday. September 21, I think. So there you go.
6. I'm not very good at promoting my art. :|
7. That's all. I hope y'all are doing well. I miss y'all and wish I had more time to post more meaningful, insightful, whateverful things. Maybe some day soon, when the real rain comes, if you wish real hard and light those candles.
Thanks, if you do. Thanks if you're reading. Thanks, especially, if you're buying my books. Hate to be crass, but I have to say that sometimes. Otherwise, this site can't be a write-off. I think y'all understand that. I mean, I don't want you to feel guilty if you read this site for free and never buy any of my books... but, then again, I'm actually okay with you feeling guilty under those circumstances.
:) 7:53 PM # (6) comments
Sunday, August 17, 2008
LinkelodeonFrom Ashley: "The Website is Down: Sales Guy vs. Web Dude", which is a video about an IT guy dealing with a sales dude
If you hated Showgirls (or if you liked it), it can be redeemed for you through this puppet satire, Showtoys.
Halston boots I would like to own.
From Mike: snippets of the best Superman comic I've ever seen. Anybody know where to find the book in real life?
Here is a Web site where you can buy techno music. And I did.
This chick's David Bowie costume is awesome.
Dogs are funny when you put humiliating costumes on them and they totally like it, because they have no dignity, and thus they transcend dignity and become almost Christlike in their oblivious cuteness.
Labels: links
11:30 AM # (3) commentsSaturday, August 16, 2008
Response from Whole Foodswhich I thought was very nice and well written
Hello Gwendolyn
Wow- I am so disappointed and embarrassed to hear your story! This behavior is completely unacceptable and I am shocked to hear that one of my department heads would react in this manner.
Please accept my deepest apologies. We pride ourselves on offering our guests the finest hospitality in town and in the nation. To have one of my team leaders respond in such an inappropriate way has not only damaged our relationship with you but set a poor example for the rest of his team. I read your email last night before bed and could only think about how many other times this may have shown up on the sales floor without my knowing.
Rest assured that I will be following up with [the offending manager's name, spelled correctly] as soon as he gets in today. I will also find about about the recipe that you requested and make sure we get it slotted in the production schedule for you.
I want to thank you from the bottom of my heart that you took the time to contact us yesterday. I know that most people who had been treated in this manner would have walked out and never looked back. Your feedback will give me the opportunity to address this issue immediately and ensure that no other guest has an experience similar to yours.
I would love the opportunity to leave you a gift card at the service desk. I completely understand if you would prefer to pick up the card at one of our other locations, but would like the opportunity to meet with you in person and reassure you of the level of service that our team is capable of.
I will have a card waiting for you at guest service as soon as we open- just let me know if you would prefer to pick up elsewhere and I will arrange that for you.
I will be back in touch on the recipe, and please don't hesitate to contact me directly if I can be of further assistance
[store manager's sig]
Response from Central Market
I'll send your idea off to our Food Service folks and see what happens - [Selling Manager's name]
Sighing with Relief
(I really did send both those emails, right before I posted them on the blog.)
I'm glad Whole Foods wrote me back and was nice about it, because I really do like then for more than just that chicken. But I couldn't say so, because my feelings were hurt and I was temporarily blinded by that. I felt like they were a boyfriend that did me wrong -- I didn't actually want to break up with them, but I was prepared to do so if they couldn't respect my feelings.
I'm glad I can go back, because I'm currently obsessed with this stuff they have called Green Gazpacho, which I guess you're supposed to eat like soup, but which I only eat with naan, as nature seems to have intended.
See, kids? What does this teach us?
WRITING:
Helping customers get what they need, since [the year the Egyptians or whoever invented it].
Wednesday, August 13, 2008
An Open Letter [Feedback Form] to Whole FoodsHi. I went to the Kirby location for lunch on Monday. While there, I asked [the hot deli] team when they'd have Moroccan Chicken again, because I really like it. They told me to come back Wednesday (today). So I drove over after work in order to pick it up for dinner. They didn't have the chicken. A female clerk on staff apologized, then suggested that I speak to the manager. I said I didn't want to wait. But she said he'd find a way to make it up to me -- that maybe he would have the staff prepare the chicken the next day and then give it to me on the house, for my trouble. I thanked her and started to leave, but then the manager, Andre, walked up. The female clerk explained the situation to him.
He said, "Oh, I don't think we make that salad anymore."
The clerk explained again that it was chicken, and that the staff had told me to come back for it today.
Andre suggested that I come back the next day or Saturday. I said I didn't want to do that. He suggested that next time, I call ahead. I asked why I should call ahead if showing up in person hadn't worked. He had no response, other than "Sorry!" with an insincere smile. He was very glib about it, and didn't seem to fully comprehend what had happened.
I wasn't *too* upset, because I figured that the staff had misunderstood me on Monday, and there was nothing Andre could really do about it, anyway. But his uncaring attitude had annoyed me a little.
I went to put back my other purchases, not wanting to stand in line for just a few things. As I did this, I overheard Andre complaining about me to clerk at the cold deli. He was shrugging his shoulders and saying, "Well, what was I supposed to do?"
Maybe you guys can give Andre some tips on what to do when customers drive to his location after work in order to buy an item that his staff has incorrectly said would be available.
Maybe you can at least instruct Andre to carefully look around his department and make sure the unsatisfied customer is gone, before he starts talking about said customer to his coworker friends.
Or, hey -- maybe you can demote Andre and promote the female clerk in his place, since she actually had some ideas about providing customer service?
An Open Email to Central Market
To Whom It May Concern:
Hi. I am a frequent Central Market shopper and prefer you guys to Whole Foods.
The only thing Whole Foods has that you guys are missing is Moroccan Chicken. Their deli sometimes has chicken that's been marinated with olives and preserved lemons.
Unfortunately, they aren't very reliable about providing that chicken, or even about telling customers the correct day to show up and purchase said chicken.
Do you think you guys could make a similar, Moroccan sort of chicken? I'm sure it isn't copyrighted or anything -- Whole Foods' tastes a lot like the chicken tagine you can get at Saffron and other Moroccan restaurants.
I hope that you'll consider it.
Sincerely,
Gwen
Labels: chicken with olives and preserved lemons, Houston, venting
7:34 PM # (9) commentsSunday, August 10, 2008
le sighIt's Sunday night and I have to go to work tomorrow, just like most of everybody else.
And I like my new job, but I always feel now like I get home so late that weekend evenings don't even count as free time... there's only barely enough time there to, like, go to the bathroom and change out of my work clothes and feed myself and ask the kids if they fed themselves and make sure there's a work outfit for the next day at work...
that I feel really pressured, each weekend now, to get as much personal stuff done as possible...
and by Friday at 6 PM, I'm already overwhelmed by the futility of it. I already know there's no way I can get it all done.
Then, Sunday night, I'm kind of crying. Or would be, if I weren't so dehydrated from running around like a maniac in the 105-heat-index heat, trying to get stuff done.
At least I got the kids haircuts, and got one of them new shoes. And did half a birthday for the other.
Just typing that out makes me realize, anew, how much I didn't get done.
:I
Long Division
I can't remember what else I wanted to tell y'all.
There was stuff -- semi-clever observations of life sorta stuff -- but I can't remember while I'm sitting here stressing over how little time I have.
I just taught someone long division, because he didn't learn it in school. This person told me today, "Mom... Can you teach me long division today? I still don't understand it, and I don't want to go back to school in two weeks not knowing it."
So I taught him, with much empathy, because I remember not being able to get that shit straight when I learned it in fourth grade. And then the 5th grade teacher pairing me up with some dude I didn't like so that he could teach me, because she didn't have time to teach me while the rest of the class was moving on to something else.
So it's apparently genetic, this hard-time-with-long-division gene. So now I can expect my son to have the same trouble with calculus, because I didn't understand calculus at all until the end of the year, when a kindly Rice professor volunteered to teach it to me the weekend before finals.
My son said, after I taught him, "They taught me, but with a bunch of little stories that just made it more confusing. Like, there was something about Santa Claus going up on the roof and dropping remainders down the chimney. I couldn't understand."
Me: "Oh my God. How can anyone learn math from crappy, unseasonable metaphors?"
My son: "Right."
And, in teaching my son long division, I noted other math skills he needed to learn. So now, some time during a break at work tomorrow, I need to find some teaching tools online and print them out, then take them home with me and hurry up and teach my kid more math skills tomorrow, in the 2.5 hours between my rush hour commute and bed time.
Oh, yeah... and then I have to finish writing a novel.
Dude
My oldest son, meanwhile, just turned 16. So, of course, 9 billion people have told me this week, "I can't believe you have a 16-year-old son."
Really? I can. I've been living with this kid for 16 years now. I can totally believe it.
I guess it's supposed to be a compliment -- that I look too young to have a kid that old. Unless, of course, you take it as shock and the dawning realization "OMG, this was a teen mom!
Or, unless you take it as people telling you that you don't seem mature enough to parent a teen?
Some time after that, I was at a social function where more than one person made witty remarks about the fact that I drink and say curse words in front of said 16-year-old son. Like, "Nice parenting skills, Gwen," said with sarcasm-dripping voices.
These were all people my age who had toddlers or babies only, mind you.
So I just didn't say anything. Well, eventually, I did say, "He's on the honor roll. Is your kid on the honor roll?"
But even that was too much. In the same way that I used to ignore criticism from kidless people, I'm now having to ignore criticism from people who only have babies and toddlers. I don't know what these people are thinking -- that they're awesome for cursing and drinking only when their babies are tucked away safely with their babysitters?
And what happens after that, when the babies get older? What am I doing wrong -- being myself in front of my kids? Failing to lie to them about how grown-ups have a good time? Failing to shelter them from reality? Failing to put on an alternate persona whenever they're not at the babysitter's? Or failing to leave them at the babysitter's in the first place? (That last item is probably the real answer.)
I'm so far removed from the conformist social mindset, as far as parenting goes these days, that I don't even know what that mindset is anymore. And, as far as I'm concerned, that's nothing to lament.
A while back, someone had a party and I was there with my kids, and someone else was there with her toddler. And people drank, and the toddler got sleepy. So the toddler went to sleep on the couch.
And, of course, someone who only had a baby had to make a remark about that. "I feel sorry for Toddler," she said.
"Why?" I said.
"That's so terrible that she has to live like that," NewBabyMomma said. She pointed to the toddler, asleep on the couch, then pointed to the toddlers' parents, who were having a good time. Then, noble point made, she walked away.
A guy next to me said, "What is she talking about? When I was a kid, I fell asleep at grown-up parties all the time."
"So did I," I said.
And then, silently, we both felt sorry for NewBabyMomma's baby, who we assumed won't be getting to go to grown-up parties.
I see parenting I don't approve of, but I keep those opinions to myself.
I don't approve of the style of parenting that ends up with teenagers putting on a big phony innocent show for their parents, then getting drunk on the weekends with their friends, God knows where, without their parents' knowledge.
I don't approve of the style of parenting that involves telling your kids phony words about yourself, then proving yourself a liar with your behavior. If I tell my kids I don't drink and I don't curse, and then they stay up late one night and see me doing it when I think they're asleep, aren't I only teaching my children that they're supposed to grow up and lie?
I see other parents do this shit, and I just think, "Better them than me." You know? Because I'm taking care of my family, and I don't have time to monitor anyone else's.
I had a duel with an old man.
One of my neighbors, an elderly gentleman, came to my yard the other day and started lecturing me about my lawn.
I don't like to be rude to old people, but I also don't like strangers telling me what to do. So he and I argued, as heatedly and yet as politely as possible.
In the end, we reached understanding. I think we even acheived mutual respect. We were very much alike, this know-it-all old man and me.
The funniest part is that, while we were having it out in my front yard, one of our other neighbors (one who hasn't spoken to me since asking me what church I attended and hearing the answer "none") was standing in his yard, gawking and eavesdropping like old Mrs. Kravitz from the Bewitched TV show. I would have pointed at him and laughed, if I hadn't been busy making my points to the old man who was trying to make his points to me.
The old man was trying to convince me that:
1. I have chinch bugs, not fertilizer burn.
2. I should have known that I had chinch bugs, not fertilizer burn.
3. If I had no way of knowing the difference between chinch bugs and fertilizer burn, I should have preempted their existence by seeking the advice of neighbors with nice lawns.
4. Since I failed at numbers 1, 2 and 3 listed above, I had proven myself an uncaring lawn mistress who was unworthy of neighbors coming by with friendly advice.
I tried to convince the old man that:
1. I obviously had fertilizer burn, not chinch bugs.
2. The knowledgeable, helpful neighbors were obviously the ones who had already helped me determine that I had fertilizer burn, and were not the ones who avoided me until this day.
3. I was not uncaring -- I was busting my butt at a job all day and had already spent a considerable amount of my paychecks trying to fix the fertilizer burn, and therefore needed no unneighborly old men lecturing me this late in the game.
In the end, cold logic won out. I have chinch bugs, and so do my two friendly neighbors. The old man does not, and therefore we all should have applied to him for advice.
Also, the old man was not in the wrong for avoiding us all. Because, seriously, how could you expect him to visit people who don't seem to care about their lawns?
Today I met up with my two friendly neighbors and informed them that they had chinch bugs. Then, I told them how to fix it, just like the old man told me. They told me that they'd seen me having it out with the old man, but weren't sure whether or not to intervene, since our arguing was so polite that they couldn't be sure that's what we had actually been doing.
I like the old man now. He's pretty awesome. I'm going to buy him a plant and write him a thank-you note, I think.
The hardcore Christian guy across the street, though? I have to say I've lost a little respect for him. A little more, I guess.
>:)
That's all.
Time for bed now. I'll spend a few minutes at my new hobby, first, though.
My new hobby is so terrible and borderline OCD-ish, I'm not even sure I should tell it to y'all.
Should I?
My new hobby: Checking out cookbooks from the library, marking the recipes I like, then xeroxing them and putting them into a Recipe Binder I made.
Why am I doing that? I don't know. I don't even like to cook. Everybody knows this. My kids are like, "Uh..." and then they're thinking, "Don't say anything aloud about mom's new OCD-ish hobby, which is totally nonsensical since she totally hates to cook."
And yet, this new hobby soothes me. So I do it, when I can, for a minute or two before I sleep at night.
I hope y'all's OCD-ish hobbies are soothing, that your lawns are chinch-bug-free, and that you all sleep well tonight.
Labels: chinch bugs, domestic, neighbors, obessions, parenting
Thursday, August 07, 2008
Not again!Sheila: I'm about to go look at your buffalo head princess
me: yay!!!!!
Sheila: but you should call me and tell me about the australians. that bewildered me
me: ok.
but I have to do DDR first for 40 min, bc I ate pizza. okay? i call you around 9, from my bed.
hurry and look at buck rogers and the princess
Sheila: lol i see it. im completely lost
me: in love with her, you mean?
and her futuristic stripper dancing?
Sheila: hes ridiculous
me: i know!
his stupid face!
PS, my dad dances like that when he's super drunk.
Sheila: its called gettin down
me: or used to
gettin dow-w-w-wn
that's woman's body isn't even that good, and yet i love her
Sheila: oh my god
im watching again
me: then you have to go to youtube and see all the parodies of it
and then drunken batman dancing
Sheila: oh my jesus
thats the most ridiculous thing ive seen, maybe ever
me: bidi bidi bidi
Sheila: booo
gy
drunken batman?
can what i just watched be embedded?
me: adam west in the '60s. with a chick named molly
embedded: don't know
Sheila: how do i find drunk batman
me: http://uk.youtube.com/watch?v=Z1RqxHQOG7w
" a large fresh orange juice, please"
Sheila: shes hot
me: i like how Robin's jerking off in the car
Sheila: she acts like kim cattrall
does batman special mean something sinister
me: i knew you'd like her, btw
maybe.
i thought it meant bartender stocked oj just for batman
Sheila: hhahaha what the fuck is robin doing
‘you Interest me, strangely’
oh lord
me: he's jerking it to the sight of batman dancing, obvs
Sheila: is he showing off his satiny satiny gloves?
me: heh
i always liked him. and his gayness
i was a kindergarten fag hag
Sheila: oh my god
shes so useless
me: who? the chick?
Sheila: lmao that was the best collection of videos, ever
yeah, when he falls she starts screaming before it happens and then steps away like she's avoiding something disgusting
hilarious body language
me: that's how women had to be back then.
avoiding the ODs, the vomit
Sheila: cradling his satin cape in the crook of his satiny arm
jesus
i know - haha - it seems really realistic
like, AHHH! i cant believe im dancing with a drunk!
me: he's a real satin man/ sitting in his satin land/ making satin satin satin nobody...
Sheila: lolol
oh god
i feel like i might be 10 or 11 and we're watching this new series called batman
me: it's almost time for me to leave you and do DDR. don't let it hurt your feelings when that happens.
aussies: roadtripnation.com
Sheila: i will not. i have to go -- ohhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh i remember now - i have to go walk the dog
like, 10 minutes ago
me:
[hating and ranking deleted]
Sheila: why you always gotta be the mom, yo
me: because my uterus is all stretched out already
i tried to be the big sister. maybe that's what happened, instead
Sheila: its not all you though
not to get into this again
but people just expect that of you
me: i guess
but i must radiate that vibe
Sheila: yeah
probably its you
me: i do it whenever i'm trying to be helpful
can't help it.
learned it at my aunt's knee
it's okay. i'm a good mom.
Sheila: you try to make people comfortable in a certain way
me: why not share the... whatever
Sheila: thats occasionally maternal
lol milk?
me: yeah -- with my boobs
and food
(milk = both. you said it.)
Sheila: lol hahahaha
awesome
me: i felt bad for [delete]
but i was like "get used to it"
LIFE IS BREAST MILK, BITCHES
Sheila: was she traumatized?
lmao god
me: maybe a little, for now
she'll get over it with a quickness
me: IT'S ALL BODILY FLUIDS. DO NOT DIFFERENTIATE
heh
you're right. sadness
but she'll get over it, and ask him to go back.
sorry for all caps. i slightly manic
Sheila: me too. is ok.
isokays? wtf
me: iz oks
Sheila: you have mastered the lolcats and i have, not.
HA i knew youd know
i bought a lamp today
me: iz oks. i still wuvz u.
from?
Sheila: jesus. too much cute
me: ikea?
Sheila: from bj oldies.
no, so much hate for ikea now
now that i have world market furniture, i have no desire to walk through that nonsense
its that milk white glass
is purdy
me: ooh
Sheila: thats my breaking news. everything else from today has been very boring, but the lamp is nice.
me: heh
plus your boobs look good lately. don't forget that.
Sheila: oh yeah? oh, in that shirt
me: and the pool photo
u can haz weihgt gainz?
Sheila: lol haha, well they're floating in both those circumstances
i can haz?
yes please, thank god.
Sheila: ok im going to go walk the dog and you go do your ddr and ill talk to you later on
me: ok.
bye tater
Sheila: lolol
thats an appropriate expression of laughing for longer than a second isnt it?
me: yes
good job
Sheila: jesus. call me later. bye
me: byes
Labels: breastmilk, breasts, Buck Rogers, chat, lookism, psychobabble
8:30 PM # (2) comments
