Tuesday, November 02, 2004
It’s all psychobabble rap to me
Some of y'all that I talked to in private (ahem, Merryweather) will recall over the weekend that I said I was quite certain I wouldn't be hearing from the one guy over his birthday. And you know, I should never say things like that, because this morning at 4-ish in the a.m.? He called and said Opie would be dropping him off. Not thinking quickly enough (as it was 4-ish in the a.m. and I was fast asleep prior), I said all right, even though I knew he'd been with his other girlfriend at some point over the weekend. Of course, I bitched about that as well as bitched intermittently on the ride home this morning about various and sundry other things while he was feeling rotten. Oh, and I never really did say "Happy Birthday," either, so THERE. We take our victories where we can. Heh ...? (she says weakly, knowing that it was pathetic, yet really not so much caring). I do wish I'd thought of telling Opie to just crash on the couch before he was like halfway home, but we're hoping he made it home without getting run over by a semi. Oh, and did I mention Cousin Nancy was still here? She found it hilarious, and even better? She didn't narc me out to Crazy Aunt, who would've surely beaten my ass.
Anyway.
Since everyone else and their blogging brethren have talked about tomorrow, I'll throw in my two cents about why I hate Shrub -- in story formation.
Anyway.
Since everyone else and their blogging brethren have talked about tomorrow, I'll throw in my two cents about why I hate Shrub -- in story formation.