Just the usual round of homework (kids and mine), the rise and not-fall of the laundry pile, and work.
So instead, I give you this:
Which leads me to a letter….
Dear J!nx,
This shirt rocks my socks off in so many geeked-out ways, I’m sure you have a clue - we’ll just let your imagination run free.
HOWEVER.
I ordered a 2XL thinking that I would have a Horrible nightgown. Imagine my dismay when I opened the package and found an XXL. It’s not that I’m disappointed with my shirt - far from it. But.
It’s not a Horrible *nightgown*.
Love, mE
The Love to Learn Homeschool Resource and Information Conference will be held at Catawba Valley Community College Multipurpose Complex. From their website:
This conference was created to fill the need for up to date, accurate, unbiased, information concerning issues that affect the climate of homeschooling in North Carolina. We want to provide a variety of speakers and sessions on a wide array of homeschooling topics. There will be something for everyone from the beginning homeschool family to those more experienced. We invite you to visit our vendor area to peruse the latest in homeschooling resources and speak with those that create and/or sell items of interest.
*Love To Learn Conference - Home Page.
Once upon a time, in a horridly ugly alternate universe, there lived a Scary Webpage. Although the images weren’t indexed by the Wayback Machine, thanks to a friend, I can show you it.
Click the image if you want to biggie-size it. Also? A different friend sent the image to me as-is and the artist’s signature is not legible. If you recognize the artwork, holla - I’d love to give credit where credit is due.
Unfortunately, this was not my first webpage.
This was. Well, sort-of. I’m not sure if this is Tig’s creation or mine and he’s not available to ask. (More than likely I coded a page and then he went back and “fixed” it.) I’m fairly sure that both of these pages were created in Dreamweaver.
On the blogging side of things, I can tell you that somewhere around April of 2004 I moved from Moveable Type (please dear gawd don’t ask me what version) to WordPress 1.0.2 and haven’t looked back once.
Between the generation of that first webpage (2002) and my conversion to WordPress (2004) I realized that I am Not A Coder. Ask me a question, I can find an answer for you. Ask me to code something for you and my brain will explode (and not in the shimmery pretty fireworks kinda way either).
Like much of the rest of my life, I’m sure coding would prove to be easy if I Would Just Apply Myself a Bit More but nah. I’d rather let Matt and The Developers handle that side of things. Why reinvent the wheel, after all?
This post is my response to Lorelle, kickin’ my bloggin’ ass.
- Homicide :: division
- Divisive :: issue
- Flash :: hate working with
- Steaming :: broccoli
- Crunch :: time
- Look out! :: behind you!
- Anticipating :: love
- Slim :: chance
- Navel :: gazing
- Help :: me
| This Is My Life, Rated | |
| Life: |  6.2 |
| Mind: |  7.5 |
| Body: |  7 |
| Spirit: | 7.9 |
| Friends/Family: |  5.1 |
| Love: |  2.9 |
| Finance: | 6.3 |
| Take the Rate My Life Quiz | |
It’s over. Finished, kaput, fin.
I know I haven’t given you a blow-by-blow of the last month, so let me do that now.
He has called me every day, and asked for permission to call the next day.
He is in love, calls me his precious, his love, and tells me I’m more beautiful every time he sees me.
He wants to be married in a year, maybe.
I do not give my heart so easily. I like him. I appreciate his attentions, but am in no way shape or form in love. To be completely frank, the last time he told me I was beautiful I accused him of intoxication (In my defense, I’d been at work for 8 hours and was having one of those bloated uncomfortable “omg I’m a TROLL” days).
Neither am I ready to speak of marriage.
For a few brief moments, I felt badly that I didn’t return his sentiment. I do LIKE the guy, after all.
But.
Guilt is a horrible foundation for a relationship, and I did indeed feel guilty about not being as ready as he is to commit.
But.
Last night I tried again to explain to him that I felt as much, and found that it’s not about me, it’s about him. He kept kissing me and wouldn’t let me speak. I tried to push him away so I could speak, and he wouldn’t release me.
It’s frustrating enough with the language and cultural differences, but to think that kisses can change my mind is naive at best.
