The stuff that dreams are made of.--The Maltese Falcon, 1941

Starbucks Red Cups in the paws of bunnies. Grandangels that make Bears proud. Brunch with Jason and Whitney. Resolved calls at work. Cuddling with a certain long-haired anthropologist. Shoulders out to *here*. Playing pool with Walter Skinner. A fireplace when it's -37. Eggs Benedict (in about an hour and a half). Making Christmas posters that turn out beautiful when Yada glitters them up. Never having a period again. Christmas presents arriving. Talking to mom and dad. Not needing more surgery. Schadenfreude. Living La Vie Boheme. Not needing glasses. Chatty emails that tell me what's going on in Buster's life. Knowing Jae and Bernie and Brent will all be here for Christmas. Cleaning my house. Okay, not that last one. Having a clean house. Better. Getting "the Obligatories" done. Serenity Puppet Theater. Sentinel porn. Re-reading songs from the south and remembering that I'm pretty good at this. Visiting the Stop and knowing that M/Sk will never ever be replaced. Paying the rent. There's another one that's not quite right. Knowing rent is paid. Doing Christmas cards. Lately, my bible. Talking to the str8 guy and not getting the complete jibblies *L* Dr. Who. Gay husbands *L* Samiches!! Pretty hair.