my dearest Seattle:
according to the calendar, it is June. you seem to labor under the idea that it is February. kindly straighten out your months, please.
dinner eaten. now i need to get the rest of my crap out of my room and then figure out where to start cleaning.
one of my towels - a fairly decent towel, not horribly nice, but still in pretty good shape - is bright, goddamn, fucking pink. it's a yellow towel.
bright, fucking pink.
you know, it's just a stupid towel. i shouldn't care; i have 80 of them. it's just a really fucking good example.
woot. things are pretty well packed up. there will be some last minute running around tommorow, but that's ok.
i found a stack of CDs buried that i'd forgotten about, including Ben Folds Five... yay.
time to answer some email and get my ass to bed before i fall over.