So I’ve arrived at Starbucks at 6:30 this morning so I can start work. It’s 70 degrees outside. The fog is lifting off Lake Washington in an angelic flight and bikers head to the Burk Gilman for a rare April non-rainy ride.
You can hear the heavens singing to the tune of Allelujiah, “SUNNN-SHINNEEE. SUNNN-SHINNNEE” (Only in Seattle is this a miraculous event.)
There are two power outlets at this Starbucks. One near a window and one in the far back corner of the seating under a florescent light that flickers until you get seizures.
Remember,... Read more
This week’s Friday Flashback was “Prom memories: what did you do (or not do) on prom night?”
Mr. Flinger would say. “I did not get laid.”
I would say, “Gossiped with friends and danced with a boy with a hardon.”
Have you ever wanted to know from your closest, say, 200 friends if you should keep something in your closet or if the rest of the world scoffs at you when you walk out in public? Like, wouldn’t it be nice if we as a community, the blogging community, could band together and say, “OMG! You, like, TOTALLY have a booger!” and save each other the pending embaressment of said boogie? And, like, wouldn’t it be nice if you could tell me with brutal honesty how you’d really like me to stop saying LIKE already because, like, OMG, you’re, like THIRTY.
Or... Read more
I’ve been working a lot this week. With five clients, thirteen websites to launch, and several installs to complete, I had to hire a
freaking goddess to come take my kids a total of 28 hours this week while I worked in my office.
Behold Thy Office
It’s been... Read more
Be warned, Internet. I am ticked. Ticked, tired, and in charge of tiny tiny children who have no respect for “get off the floor and stop licking that stranger’s shoes fortheloveofgodI’mnottellingyouagain.”
monkeys to the DMV. Having every forseen document I could think of, title of car, insurance, bank account information, birth certificate, passport, photos of my children. a letter from my teacher in fourth grade and my checkbook, I figured 2pm on a Wednesday was a... Read more
I’m listening to these girls chat at the coffee house. They must be young, just out of college or fifth year seniors. They splatter the word “like” over their conversation the way we used aquanet in the 80’s over our bangs. It’s obvious one girl is more in to the other. The one with the boobs, she’s the one carrying the conversation. She also slaughters low cut like a hungry butcher. The boobs, they pour out in overflowing pale whiteness.
I’m practically blinded.
The other girls is sensibly dressed, obviously the more mature of the... Read more