Wednesday, March 31
Tuesday, March 30
Monday, March 29
Sunday, March 28
Saturday, March 27
Friday, March 26
Thursday, March 25
Wednesday, March 24
Tuesday, March 23
Monday, March 22
The cure for what ails you
If all else fails, listen to Within Your Reach.
posted @ 9:01 AM |
If not now, when?
As the debate over same-sex marriage has raged here in the Bay State, I've kept mostly quiet, because so much was and is being said elsewhere, more thoughtfully and eloquently than I can manage. A lot of people seem to be growing bored of the debate -- from this Boston Globe columnist to fellow blogger the Redhead -- and suggest that there are more important things to tackle. I frankly can't think of anything more important than basic civil rights. Without the idea of equality (which I know I foolishly cling to) and the freedom to be simply who you are, what is there to live for? Why should anyone ever stop fighting for the right to be treated the same as those in the empowered majority (be that in terms of sexual orientation, race, religion, or sex)?
I have a hard time writing about things that make me truly, deeply angry. (That's why I was never any good at debate -- unless you want to argue something I don't care about. Then I can talk you into an early grave.) This issue makes me angry on so many levels -- separation of church and state, equality under the law, separate is not equal -- but mostly, it makes me sad. (Which makes it even more difficult to write.) I am saddened that anyone would seek to stop a loving, committed couple from getting married. I can't even fathom why anyone would want to. I don't care what you think your god wants -- your god is not my god, and no one's god should have anything to do with the law. How can anyone hate an entire group of people so much that they would deny them the right to marry whomever they chose? I mean, it's not like they're UConn fans. That I could understand.
(You didn't think I'd let a post go by without some kind of crack, did you? Photos courtesy of my lovely friend Pam, who trekked down to the State House.)
posted @ 12:47 PM |
Comfortably numb
I can't feel my face. And I refuse to answer the phone until I can. I've already been laughed at several times, beginning with my tentative "Hellwoa," when I came into the office, so I'm feeling a little self-conscious, people. Novocaine sucks.
posted @ 8:19 AM |
Parting shot
BC lost to Minnesota this afternoon, ending their season with a 27-7 record, a second trip to the Sweet 16, and the Big East title. What a great season for the Eagles -- their record is the best ever in the women's program and it is also the program's first Big East title. "I don't think anybody expected us to have the success that we did, and to be able to lead this team to a Big East championship and on to the Sweet 16 has been an incredible experience I'll never forget,'' senior co-captain Amber Jacobs said.
It's a funny thing about college sports -- it's all so fleeting. I suppose it's what makes March Madness so very maddening. Each year, the roster changes, the team changes, and you get something new to love, something old to miss. BC will have a tough time replacing Jacobs, and I can only hope someone in the WNBA will be smart enough to snap her up in the draft. BC also loses Maureen Leahy, an important role player for this team.
Luckily, I can look forward to seeing Clare Droesch and Jessalyn Deveny lead the team in the fall, and I can't wait to see how Kathrin Ress develops (as well as Brooke Queenan and Aja Parham, who just keep getting better).
Thanks for such a wild, fun ride (especially the part where you beat UConn). Same time next year?
posted @ 8:07 PM |
Boston girl
Every movie Ben makes from now on should be set in Boston. Because he just can't hide who he is. All throughout Jersey Girl, I expected him to bust out with his patented shit-eating grin and a Red Sox cap. Actually, all throughout the movie, I was thinking one thing and one thing only: Man With Child. Unbelievably hot man with child. Ben hasn't looked this good since ... never, so he needs to stick with whatever Kevin Smith was telling him to do. The movie itself was not very good -- too much forced into one short movie, Liv Tyler's character was never developed, and if I see one more goddamn movie with a kid acting in a "pageant" again, I'm going to kill myself. Did anyone ever have one of these fictional things occur in real life? I was never in a pageant my entire fucking life, nor were any of my three sisters, or anyone else I've ever met. Just stop with this particular Hollywood cliche, please.
And show me more Ben Affleck. Holy eye-candy, Batman. Damn.
posted @ 1:41 PM |
Never a good sign
Friend: Have you been drinking?
Me: No!
Friend: Have you been smoking something?
Me: (I giggle, then laugh because I fucking giggled) No!
Friend: No, really, how much have you been drinking?
Dude, sometimes I'm just happy to see you.
posted @ 7:47 AM |
Poetic justice
With all this writing about writers writing about writing, it seems only appropriate that I finally watched Sylvia last night. Despite my aversion to Gwyneth Paltrow, I wanted to give the movie a chance, since Sylvia Plath was so appealing to me as a young girl. I've revisited her work only briefly now that I'm a bit older, and while I can still appreciate it, I'm happy to say that I no longer find her depressed, suicidal nature as fascinating as I once did. Perhaps it was that sensibility that colored the movie for me, since throughout the film, I wanted to tell her to just get over herself. Paltrow was bland as Sylvia; I never felt the passion of her love for Hughes (who was played with intensity by Daniel Craig), but worse, I never felt the passion of her writing. The scene were Sylvia breaks down before her neighbor, a stranger, was almost laughable it was so unbelievable. (It didn't help that the movie had the most melodramatic score I've ever heard. Apparently, they weren't going for subtlety.)
In the end, I didn't believe in Sylvia's love, her poetry, nor her madness. I wasn't even depressed by the waste of such talent when she killed herself; it was only the sight of a totally gray England that was enough to make me weep.
posted @ 9:07 AM |
So this is growing up
Happy birthday to my little sister, Leslie. As she turns 24 today, I guess she's not so little anymore, but I'll always remember the time when she gave me a bloody nose. Sure, I was 6 and she was 2, so it seems like I had an advantage there, but she's always been a scrappy one.
And in other holy-fuck-I'm-really-this-old news, my niece just turned 13. Thirteen! I remember 13! It was horrible! (Except for the part where I met my favorite boy ever. That was fun. Except for when we had that argument which I won't mention. That was bad. And we were 13! Inconceivable.)
posted @ 11:45 AM |
Free form
Today I visited the college archives, which are just so cool because they have to buzz you in and you can't bring in pens only pencils and you can only touch the photographs if you're wearing these little white gloves and they have the most amazing photographs and why don't we use sepia anymore because it made everyone so much prettier or maybe everyone was just prettier back then, I don't know, but I do know that I love the archives because it's full of random old stuff that you didn't know which reminds me of a really good book, what was it called, it was about an archivist, oh yeah it was called The Archivist and it was really measured and slow and beautiful and full of interesting ideas about words and books and writers and what portion of the interior life of a writer the public is entitled to know, if any, and I'm such a dork because I love books about books and writing and poetry, which is probably why I loved Possession because the English major in me wants to travel back in time and discover some amazing letters that explain so much about a poet I love except I want to say that I don't need more than the writing itself, the writing itself is enough, it should be enough and sometimes it is, but the letters between Shelby Foote and Walker Percy were so wonderful, so nuanced, and I loved reading all of them and I just wish that Walker could have written at least one other book as good as The Moviegoer but I haven't found it, and I keep trying to make time to read every night, every night I go home and try to finish the last 20 pages of The Interpreter of Maladies but basketball is on and Lahiri can be so detached, so cold, but I really want to finish it so I can start another book, so I can put another book on my currently reading list, and is it wrong to want to read merely so I can update my blog?
posted @ 1:18 PM |
Why I do what I do
BC is my team. I have been a proud season-ticket holder for the last three years (blame Pam, she works there), and have rarely missed a game. I have other teams that I like (Tennessee, Texas, any team that beats UConn), but if it comes down to it, I'm rooting for the Eagles. My dad e-mailed this morning to remind me that both he and my mother are proud OSU graduates, and I should have a little respect.
I want to state here: I have lots of respect for OSU. I also really respect the pounding my team gave them last night. I mean, it's not like I went to BC. (I don't know what I'd do if Wellesley played anywhere near the same league as BC. Luckily, we're DIII and proud of it.) In sports, much as in life, some things just ... are. I am a BC women's basketball fan. (My roommate might add "complete lunatic and way too over-enthusiastic fan," but what have you.)
posted @ 7:50 AM |
It doesn't get any sweeter than this
BC beat OSU 63-48. We're going to the Sweet Sixteen, baby.
Amber Jacobs lead BC with 17 points, going 3-4 from 3-point range and 4-4 from the charity stripe. She added 5 assists and 4 boards as well. Ress and Deveny were right behind her in scoring, adding 16 and 15 respectively; they also grabbed the boards -- Ress had 7, Deveny had 8. The team was much more composed tonight than in the squeaker over Eastern Michigan State, thank god. Happiness has returned to Jenville.
posted @ 6:16 PM |
First-name basis
This morning, I scribbled on a post-it:
Which was, of course, just a way to remind myself to blog about watching Raising Victor Vargas, listening to Jonatha Brooke, and re-watching Rocky.
Raising Victor Vargas was a sweet movie that reminded me how glad I am that I am neither a teenager nor a boy. Jonatha's latest, Back in the Circus, is quickly becoming a favorite, despite the number of covers on the album. I typically disapprove of ripping off other people's music, but she puts enough of her own spin on things that I forgive her. (I'm most surprised by how much I enjoy her rendition of Fire and Rain.) And I had to watch Rocky last night after reading Premiere's list of 100 best movie characters, which included, of course, the Italian Stallion himself at #64. People laugh now, but the first Rocky was an amazing movie. Rocky was a bum and Adrian was a loser, and I fell in love with them both. Their first kiss ranks high on my list of best movie kisses of all time. And while everyone remembers "Adrian!" at the end of the movie, my favorite line has to be Stallone's delivery of "Absolutely," after Adrian asks him if he wants a roommate.
posted @ 6:36 AM |
Saturday, March 20
Warning sign
I am driving fast and not enjoying it. My team is winning, and I am not happy. I know this mood, and it is dangerous.
posted @ 8:53 PM |
Friday, March 19
To answer my own question
Yes, the new Finger Eleven is good, quite good in fact. I love when I'm rewarded for going out on a limb. I knew I liked one song, but I wasn't sure if I would like the rest of their stuff. Thousand Mile Wish and One Thing are my favorites so far, but I've only listened to the whole album twice.
In other retail-therapy news, I bought the new Jonatha Brooke and finally got the new Offspring. Details to follow.
posted @ 5:36 PM |
Thursday, March 18
Complicating the issue
Most of the time, I think I need to simplify my life. I want to strip things down, get to the core of things, boil everything down to its essence. Half the time I want to do this to my site, too -- abandon my sideblog (which I love), throw away my blogroll, discard my tags, kill the archives, and leave you all with nothing but what I'm saying today, this moment.
So, to completely work against that urge, I've added links to what I'm currently reading, because I saw it over at bookishness and thought it looked cool. I skipped over to allconsuming.net, saw that it was ridiculously easy, and just did it. Don't bother telling me whether or not you like it; it may be gone tomorrow, or whenever I next get the urge to be ... less and not more.
posted @ 12:58 PM |
Wednesday, March 17
What to wear
Tonight, Pam brought me home a BC Big East champions t-shirt. I love Pam. I love this shirt. I would wear it to work tomorrow, but somehow, it doesn't scream professional. Pam also sent me running to afterellen.com to check out the line of L-Word inspired products. I simply must have this one. Must. Have.
posted @ 6:34 PM |
Old man winter
He's not done with us yet. And I don't think he'll be happy until I'm bent and bitter just like he is. I got up an hour early this morning to shovel snow. I don't get up an hour early for anything I enjoy, let alone back-breaking work like snow removal. (And let's face it, it's not removal, it's just displacement. It's not like we export it to Canada or something. We just stick on the edge of our driveways or on top of dead gardens.) Also, I'm convinced that there is, in actuality, no good way to shovel. Lift with you legs, my ass. I'm hauling around 7 inches of snow, some of which has been packed down quite nicely, and there is no amount of knee-bending that is going to keep this from not killing every weird muscle group that I had thankfully forgotten existed since the last time it snowed.
But, on the bright side, I'm puppy-sitting today. I currently have a 4-lb. Chihuahua standing on my arms. Sure, it makes it a little bit more difficult to type, but she's so cute.
posted @ 6:42 AM |
Tuesday, March 16
Absolutely brilliant
Last night, I took another foray into my local CVS (it's becoming an addiction, people), but this time I was on a very specific mission. I would not be sidetracked; I would not buy shit I did not need. I went in, I grabbed what I needed, and then I made a serious tactical error: I walked down the beauty products aisle to get to the cash register. I grabbed some lotion I needed (girls always need more lotion), and then I saw it: John Frieda's new Brilliant Brunette line of products.
Now, I'd heard an ad for this a few weeks ago and had seriously considered it. I've used his line of products for blondes before (there was this shimmering pomade ... I had really short hair ... shit happens, okay?) and was generally satisfied. I was really just excited by the idea that they would make something specifically for women with brown hair -- because, you know, we have less fun. So I did it: I bought the Satin Shine finishing creme. I kinda like it. I don't think my hair looks like satin now, but it is really soft. And I feel radiant. Yeah.
Speaking of brilliant, I recieved my new issue of Women's Basketball magazine last night, and BC's Amber Jacobs was profiled inside. See previous post for extreme feelings of joy, pride, etc.
posted @ 7:19 AM |
Monday, March 15
I just hate how it sounds
The best part about cooking yesterday was listening to BCN while I was doing it. (When my roommate left to walk the dog, I cranked the tunes. It was good times. Somehow doing the dishes is more fun when you're shaking your groove thang.)
However, an undesired and unplanned side effect is my freak brain alternating between One Thing, a kind of sweet pop tune, and the persistent chorus of Despite all my rage, I am still just a rat in a cage.
Let's see which song wins by the end of the day, eh? (On a side note, is the new Finger Eleven any good?)
posted @ 10:24 AM |
Crisis narrowly averted; new problems arise
I went to my local CVS yesterday to replenish my sadly depleted stock of cinnamon Tic Tacs. I'm very excited (the way you can be only when you're at a drugstore and you're browsing, for chrissakes) because the 6-pack of cinnamon Tic Tacs are on sale. Score! I snag one of those and add it to my disturbingly large pile of stuff-I-really-don't-need-from-CVS.
When I bust out the Tic Tacs later, I discover to my horror that the Tic Tacs are now 30% larger. Why? Why are my Tic Tacs bigger? The package claims that there is now "more enjoyable freshness," but this lump of cinnamon-y goodness is just a trifle too big now. And now each 1 1/2 calorie breath-mint is 1.9 calories. What are they going to do now? Market themselves as the 1.9 calorie breath-mint? When is the madness going to end, people?
And now my mouth is too red-hot-y instead of just-cinnamon-y enough. My whole equilibrium is off. I'm canceling the rest of the week.
posted @ 6:34 AM |
Sunday, March 14
Needed: One kitchen minion
Okay, you want to know what sucks about being single? (Aside from lack of booty.) Cooking. Cooking sucks when you're single. Tonight, like most Sundays in my life since I decided to start cooking for myself, I had to chop. And dice, and mince, and all that other stupid crap that goes along with making food. I sauteed, I simmered, I sliced, I diced. I was a fucking machine, okay? My reward is I get to eat aforementioned yummy food. Yay! And it's all mine! As are all the damn dishes waiting to be washed. To top it all off, once I scoured all the diced basil bits off the cutting board, and wiped down the counters, and generally tidied the kitchen -- then I had to take the damn trash out myself.
It's gone too far, people. This independence crap is for the birds. I need a minion. Now.
posted @ 8:40 PM |
Saturday, March 13
A walk in JP
posted @ 7:48 PM |
Friday, March 12
Sweet addiction
Sonofabitch. I'm out of cinnamon Tic-Tacs. Now what am I supposed to do? I can't work under these conditions, people!
This message brought to you by the magazine deadline.
posted @ 1:06 PM |
More joy than I can handle
Okay, I'll admit it: She's my favorite. But, still it brings me joy in general that a BC senior has been named to the Kodak All-America District Squad as well as being selected to play in the WBCA's All-Star Challenge at the Final Four. I'm so proud. (And this may well be one of my favorite photos ever -- Jacobs goes up for a beautiful jumper against both Taurasi and Barbara Turner, who are both soon to be sad, sad losers.)
Really, people, this much happiness in one week is not good for me.
posted @ 7:14 AM |
Thursday, March 11
Flirting with disaster
Upon my return home from an enjoyable evening at the Cheesecake Factory, I find myself pondering something. Is there some strange waiter school out there that teaches men how to flirt with the female customer? Where do people learn these things?
I'm really not flirtatious by nature -- in fact, I'm not sure if I could flirt even if I wanted to. So when a waiter tries to engage me in what I clearly recognize as coquettish behavior, I usually just respond with a smile and a "Can I have another Coke?" Which is not to say I don't appreciate the attempts. I do. They definitely make me feel better about the insane quantity of mashed potatoes I just snarfed down as though wolves were trying to steal the plate from me, as well as the slice of lemon-raspberry cheesecake I'm about to order. I'm just saying: Where did they learn this? And where do I sign up?
posted @ 7:34 PM |
Back in action
No, I have not drifted off into some BC-won-the-Big-East-championship-induced euphoria (though it was close there for awhile). I was merely writing other things. You know, like articles for work. Because they actually pay me.
To better focus my concentration on the task at hand, I worked from home. Basically, I didn't leave my house for the better part of 24 hours, giving me very little to blog about. (Unless y'all want a peek inside the writer's mind whilst she works? It goes a little something like this: Jesus god in heaven, I'm a bad writer. That is the worst lead ever created in the history of man. If this were the only printed material left on the planet after a catastrophic nuclear event, I still wouldn't read it. Why do I do this? God, I'm a bad writer. Why didn't I become a carpenter? I like wood. If I could write as well as BC played basketball this week, I'd be rich now. I still can't believe they beat UConn and won the championship. Jesus, I'm a bad writer. The structure of that sentence is just horrific.)
I'm back in the saddle again, but I still have little to blog about. I'm doing it anyway because apparently my absence has caused some distress.
posted @ 7:27 AM |
Tuesday, March 9
We are the champions
BC won the Big East title for the first time ever. They also made tournament history, as they are the first team (men or women's) to win the title after playing four straight games. And, quite simply, they kicked major ass. They faced a tough Miami team in their second game, stunned UConn in their third, and then put away a battered Rutgers team tonight. Amber Jacobs lead the scoring against Rutgers with 22 points; she also had 2 boards and 3 assists in her last game in the Big East. Jess Deveny rightfully earned tournament MVP; she had 20 points and 7 boards against Rutgers tonight. Jacobs and freshman Kathrin Ress were also named to the All-Tournament team for kicking ass and taking names for the last four games.
I'm just so ridiculously happy about it all. Jen said, "It's not like you to be this happy," and it's true, people. Let the March Madness begin: BC is going to the Big Dance.
posted @ 8:06 PM |
Monday, March 8
BC 73, UConn 70
My girls are going to the Big East championship! Aw, who cares? They beat UConn! And they had an amazing game -- 63% field-goal percentage, 62% from 3-pt range, and 71% from the line. Thank god I got that on tape -- and yes, I will watch it again. And again. And again.
Yes, those are my ta-tas. Pam made this t-shirt for my birthday. It ranks right up there with the bjg shirt made by April, Leigh, and Rachel for best gift ever.
posted @ 5:11 PM |
The semi-annual biennial twice-weekly changing of the guard
Or the template. What have you.
I've been thinking about switching from archiving weekly to monthly -- now that I've been doing this blogging thing for oh-so-very-long, I thought it might be wise to have a slightly shorter list of archive possibilities. Plus, TQ was having a hard time finding stuff, and we can't have that.
All the old permalinks should still work because I left the weekly archives hanging around in the nether regions of angelfire.com. Let me know if you encounter any problems with the new system. Or if you hate it. Or you hate me. Or whatever.
posted @ 10:11 AM |
Remember this as how it should be
I took an hour-long walk around JP yesterday. In just a sweatshirt. It was glorious. Today, I had to scrape snow off my car. Tell me again why I live in New England?
Oh, well, maybe some of the photos I took will be decent and I'll have something with which to remember our 15 minutes of spring.
posted @ 7:04 AM |
Sunday, March 7
Respect my authority
This morning I'm buzzing down 128, doing a respectable 80 mph, playing my music way too loud, steering negligently with one hand, doing the kind of slouching-in-my-seat thing that I like to do when the sun is out and the temperature is above -30. I notice that someone has crawled right up on my ass, and I think, "Whatever, asshole. I'm going more than fast enough." After he's been on my tail for a few minutes, I straighten in my seat to get a better look at the guy and attempt to determine whether or not the finger is in order. And that's when I see that the asshole behind me is a state trooper. Now, I'm clearly in flagrant violation of the speed limit (as is he), but his main concern does not appear to be how quickly I'm driving, but how quickly I can get out of his way so he can go even faster. I take the next opportunity to switch lanes, and he whizzes right past me. Clearly, there was no emergency (as he didn't run his lights or sirens), he just wanted to drive fast like the rest of us. Which I respect.
posted @ 11:47 AM |
Saturday, March 6
Every five years or so I look back on my life and I have a good laugh
I can't believe it, but I've finally given in. I surrender. I admit defeat. It's been a good fight, fought over 10 long years, but now it's time to admit that something is bigger than me. I'm weak. Weak, weak, weak. I can't believe I resisted all four years at Wellesley when it was all around me, insistent, demanding. My roommate found out last night. She was walking out the door, and I thought I was safe. I couldn't help myself. "I'll be the first to praise the sun," I said, and I've never seen her come back in the house so fast. "What did you say?" she demanded. I couldn't hide it anymore.
I like the Indigo Girls. Dammit.
posted @ 8:56 PM |
Friday, March 5
Gift horse, etc.
I went to the dentist this morning for the semi-annual check-up and was greeted by a new hygienist, who is a man. Which is okay, except ... shouldn't they screen hygienists for hand size or something? I'm just looking up at him and thinking, "You want to put those where?" People, I've got a small mouth. It is not made for the hands of a large Ukrainian man. (Okay, he may be Russian. Or some other place where they talk like that. It was kind of a cute accent, actually. But I digress.) I forgive him for the size of his hands because he praises my dental hygiene. It's the little things, people. The little things.
Then my dentist comes in to do the final check on my teeth, and he says, "You've got a very interesting mouth." What the hell does that mean? I'd really prefer that my dentist thinks my mouth is boring. Very boring. And requiring no drilling of any kind.
posted @ 6:39 AM |
Thursday, March 4
Currently reading
Why do I have to look up the same damn thing every time?
posted @ 3:35 PM |
Indecision 2004
Separate Ways or Faithfully?
Open Arms or Lights?
posted @ 1:17 PM |
Utter perfection
We just got the super-futuristic, kinda-looks-like-a-PC-mouse Epson Perfection 3170 photo scanner here at work, and it is rocking my world. It scans negatives and transparencies beautifully, making all this random crap that we've kept for years actually ... useful. I wish I were a photographer so I could appreciate this even more, but as a lowly writer, all I can do is sigh. And scan in lots of stuff (for business and otherwise).
posted @ 7:56 AM |
Wednesday, March 3
I like to buy shit I don't need
I purchased The Thorn Birds for the sweet-ass price of $19.95, as well as Once and Again: Season 1 for $24.95, and Girlfight for $14.95. So, apparently, when I'm not in the mood for some seriously over-the-top romance and uber-girly-goo, I like to see chicks pound the shit out of boys. Who's with me?
posted @ 12:29 PM |
That's right, I'm calling for the end of the human race
We're not doing anything worthwhile anyway, so I say we just lay down our weapons of mass destruction, suck back a few margaritas, and let the human race die out peacefully. Let's see what the marmots can do with things for awhile, eh?
Because I've had it with all you mass-producing baby-breeders out there. Don't you realize your baby-making ways cause the rest of us great emotional distress? Do the world a favor. Do me a favor. Just stop. (Except for my sister, because she's taking all the "where are my grandbabies?" flack for the rest of us.)
posted @ 6:42 AM |
Tuesday, March 2
Parental discretion advised
My mom worked with the students on her campus to put together a production of the Vagina Monologues for V-Day (Feb. 14). She's been keeping something for me in her fridge ever since. Last night was her first opportunity to give it to me, and I have to admit, I was a bit ... nonplussed. I don't know how to say it, so I'll quote my roommate: "Your mom gave you a chocolate coochie!" Yes. Yes, she did.
Thanks, Mom.
posted @ 6:46 AM |
Monday, March 1
Cornered
Working from home today felt like a break from the world. I knew everyone was out there, going about their day, doing their work, and I was too -- but it didn't quite feel like it. It felt like no one knew where I was, like I was invisible just for today. Perhaps it was seeing all the sunlight in my room -- I miss this time of day during the week, and like as not, I sleep through it on the weekends. Perhaps that's why I've filled my room with so much white, a vain attempt at mimicking the light of day. Or perhaps it's just my innate fear of color.
posted @ 8:04 PM |
Auditory hallucinations
"Would it kill you to e-mail me? Would it break your fucking fingers?"
Now, since I am working at home currently, and there is no other human here, I leave it to you to figure out who said what to whom.
posted @ 10:13 AM |