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C. You know what's NOT awesome? The damned dog eating her halter. Again. @#$% dog. Seriously-- it would be really damned nice of her if she'd go through halters LESS often than she went through hair cuts. I mean, we might be able to afford the groomers more often if she didn't eat her NECESSARY NECK JEWELRY every other week.
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E. On impulse, Chicken has signed up to come be my Vegas monkey in RT. I already have two people she will be at the mercy of, and I'm sort of excited. Just once I want to be able to say, "Hey, look-- there's (insert name of at least fifty different author crushes here). Go buy a book and get it signed for me!" *happy sigh* This might finally be my chance.
F. Mate came home exhausted from not only going to Squish's choir presentation but also to his own indoor soccer game (which started at 10:25 at night, btw, when most of the old men involved were probably used to going to bed.) Anyway, he sat on the couch to watch television and I sat down to watch it with him, but he was tired and out of it, and I just concentrated on my knitting.
Finally I got up and he said, "Work?"
"Yeah, and you don't really know I'm here."
"I knew you were there!"
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"Did you know that I maintained a five minute one-sided conversation to which you didn't respond?"
"Yes... wait...no... wait. There is no good answer to that question, is there!"
"No, hon. Bedtime."
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G--Tomorrow I give out the Avengers Assemble, I mean Swag Assemble call, and we start Amy's little sweatshop all over again. May the gods of organization be with me, except seriously, if they COULD be with me, where the fuck have they been all my life?
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