I wrote over two-thousand words on the "novel" today, and I am not kidding when I tell you that not a single paragraph was worth excerpting for your reading pleasures tonight. Reading discomfort, perhaps, but who am I to contribute to squirmitude when the world provides so much of it, naturally?
I'm waiting for Nate to post his picture, to see if it will be something I can write about. He's in Milwaukee (not spelled with an "i"- who knew?) this week, which means I am Missing Him, but it's alleviated by watching episodes of Psych together. Gods bless NetFlix streaming, eh?
I'm listening to my friend Kat's radio show (every Monday night from 6pm-8pm, Pacific Time!) and she's playing "Portland music" (at the moment it's the Decemberists "Here I Dreamt I Was An Architect", which is one of my favorites) and it's making me ache with longing for my rain-swept kingdom. I miss the land, I miss the people- I'm glad we're heading back there in the quasi-near future.
Holy Guacamole! Nate just posted his picture and it's pretty much awesome. Go look, go look! And then look at this one from January, and just try telling me we aren't going to produce green-eyed babies. And then look at this one from March, because tee hee! Kitty!
I'm wishing I had some chocolate. And perhaps a point to this entry. But I suppose neither is particularly essential. Time for more Psych!
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