We lived on the West Range in the Academic Village of the great TJ. We had our own rooms with a sink and fireplace, but the bathrooms were outside. Yes that's right, outside. It was a regular sight on grounds to see students in bathrobes and towels going to and from showers while passing students on their way to class. I introduced myself to Anna early in the semester. Her room was about 5 doors down from mine. We didn't have any classes together, didn't really see each other during the day, and rarely ate together in the commons, but developed a friendship nonetheless that's lasted over 5 years.

I wouldn’t have thought upon meeting her that’d we’d be anything but friendly towards one another. I can still to this day remember the first time I saw Anna after meeting. It was around 6am and I was walking to my car to head to an internship for the day. She walked out of her room in front of me, locked her door, and started walking in the same direction. I said hello and there was no response. I thought for sure she had to have 1. either seen me or 2. heard me say hello, but I got no response. How RUDE I thought as I followed her to the parking lot where we had parked our cars overnight.

I shrugged it off, as maybe my first impression of her was WAY off. I started thinking that perhaps she was that stereotypical sorority girl. It wasn't until later that I discovered the reason for this brush off. Some people can get to where they need to be and get there on time, but it’s their bodies functioning on autopilot that gets them there. Their minds are still cloudy with sleep. Anna definitely runs on autopilot after sleep.

guest posted by JL



did you just call me a b**ch?

No, but I am heading to the beach! Off for the yearly beach trip with the family. It’s an oh so exciting let’s-play-with-all-the-children-that-have-overwhelmed-our-lives week. And the children are fabulous, but I don’t even have a man to make noise in my life much less 5 children so I do a lot of trying just to get some peace and quiet. And the beach, well it’s not really my favorite. I hate sand. I hate saltwater. What I do love is the beach at night, when most people are asleep and the moon lights up the water and you feel like you are looking at the edge of the world. Yeah, that’s pretty cool.

So, while I'm off running around with children who have sand in their diapers, J.L. will hopefully be posting in my stead. I’ve asked her to write a commentary about a late weekend night we once had in graduate school with a huge group of… lice. That’s right people, lice. Rock it J.L.!

Audio 5000.




I love that Will Smith is a black man who is so inside my head . I'm just sayin'.



some things are universal and they are all the color of indigo

Two girls with guitars, acoustic ones at that, playing to mass of people. My friends and I looked at each other in amazement that two girls with guitars could do this. And I talked about the lyrics and she talked about the harmonies. There is something about them that is universal. They get what we all long for. If you are not moved by these lyrics then I’m not sure we can be friends.

what makes me think i could start clean slated
the hardest to learn was the least complicated

“Least Complicated” by Indigo Girls

It’s amazing to my how the Indigo Girls songs are so much a part of my brain. A song would start and I couldn’t place the name, but all of a sudden I would be singing every word, like my mouth couldn’t help but sing along like I have done so often on cars rides, in dorm rooms, where ever girls are gathered. Because if you are an American girl between 20-35 and you don’t know who the Indigo Girls are, then well, I’m not sure we can be friends.

I'm trying to tell you something about my life
Maybe give me insight between black and white
The best thing you've ever done for me
Is to help me take my life less seriously, it's only life after all
Well darkness has a hunger that's insatiable
And lightness has a call that's hard to hear
I wrap my fear around me like a blanket
I sailed my ship of safety till I sank it, I'm crawling on your shore.

I went to the doctor, I went to the mountains
I looked to the children, I drank from the fountain
There's more than one answer to these questions
pointing me in crooked line
The less I seek my source for some definitive
The closer I am to fine.

“Closer To Fine” by Indigo Girls

The power of what they say and the simplest ways they say it. It’s so true that the less you seek the definitive, the closer you are to fine.

so we’re okay we’re fine
baby i’m here to stop your crying
chase all the ghosts from your head
i’m stronger than the monster beneath your bed
smarter than the tricks played on your heart
we’ll look at them together then we’ll take them apart
adding up the total of a love that’s true
multiply life by the power of two

“Power of Two” by Indigo Girls

I almost cried during this one. Are you kidding me? Stonger than the monster beneath my bed? Yes, welcome, come right on in.


for the record, i like boys

Everytime I say this to someone, I think of Coupling when Jeff goes away and comes back as a half man/woman thing. Anyway. I won’t be partaking in any girl-on-girl action (not that there's anything wrong with that), but school is over and tonight I’m going to the Isle of Lesbos. That’s right, me alongside a crowd of women who like women (not that there's anything wrong with that) are going to be rocking out. If you don’t know where the Isle is well then, just get out the map.



dance with me

I'm happy. Just happy.



and you will know us by the trail of dead

Anna says: (7:09:30 PM)
but, what was that song
PK says: (7:09:38 PM)
we watched the movie De Lovely last night
Anna says: (7:09:40 PM)
that was so excited that jesus was dead
PK says: (7:09:41 PM)
It was cute
PK says: (7:09:44 PM)
have you seen it?
Anna says: (7:09:48 PM)
i liked that one
Anna says: (7:09:49 PM)
a lot
Anna says: (7:09:55 PM)
i love cole porter
PK says: (7:09:56 PM)
I cried
Anna says: (7:10:05 PM)
there's no crying in basefall
Anna says: (7:10:09 PM)
Anna says: (7:10:33 PM)
still, i don't think i could have lived the life of his wife
Anna says: (7:10:38 PM)
it's like will and grace
PK says: (7:10:56 PM)
yeah I know but she didn't get to have any fun on the side
Anna says: (7:11:10 PM)
that's what i'm saying, it would suck to be here
Anna says: (7:11:12 PM)
Anna says: (7:11:24 PM)
was that a fruedian slip i just did there, with the here
Anna says: (7:12:28 PM)
but hello, at least someone loved her. i can't even get that much. oh, woe is me.
PK says: (7:12:48 PM)
well you have to want it first
Anna says: (7:13:29 PM)
i do want it, i want it more than anything, and yet it absolutely terrifies me because i don't believe it's possible
PK says: (7:13:55 PM)
ok let me rephrase it....you have to ready for it
PK says: (7:14:09 PM)
getting over the fear is step one
Anna says: (7:14:14 PM)
how do you ready yourself to be loved?
PK says: (7:14:57 PM)
be willing to accept peoples love, compliments, attention
PK says: (7:15:03 PM)
as of now that freaks you out
PK says: (7:15:06 PM)
Anna says: (7:15:13 PM)
you know me so well
Anna says: (7:15:38 PM)
because i don't believe it, they must want something if they're nice to me
Anna says: (7:15:54 PM)
i think also that i've secluded myself a lot in the last 2 years
Anna says: (7:16:03 PM)
and that i've gotten out of the practice of people
PK says: (7:16:12 PM)
I can believe that
PK says: (7:16:24 PM)
so with the summer ahead go become people friendly
Anna says: (7:17:22 PM)
yeah, you're so like "just do it," right, i'll get right on that. i just don't think the shoes fit
Anna says: (7:17:29 PM)
i create this. i know it.
Anna says: (7:17:45 PM)
hey go read my post from this weekend. www.anna-banana.blogspot.com
Anna says: (7:18:07 PM)
and see what my cousin commented.
Anna says: (7:18:10 PM)
i love him
PK says: (7:20:01 PM)
PK says: (7:20:10 PM)
I know just do is easier said than done
PK says: (7:20:20 PM)
but do you have any better ideas than to just jump in?
PK says: (7:20:35 PM)
kidnapp K an go do something fun
Anna says: (7:20:52 PM)
yeah, her boy is in town or something
Anna says: (7:20:55 PM)
damn boys
Anna says: (7:22:05 PM)
ok, you go be a grown up and either find a house or write your paper. i'm going to go, well, um, dream about boys.
PK says: (7:22:22 PM)
ok I hope you sleep better tonight
PK says: (7:22:27 PM)
is school out yet?
Anna says: (7:22:32 PM)
wed., baby
PKsays: (7:22:53 PM)
oh yeah you said that all ready




When the prospect of a new boy comes along, I start planning. I plan the dating scenarios, how I will introduce him to my friends, how I’ll tell my family. I envision weekends away and dinner parties and lots and lots of snuggling. Then I plan the dress, the bridesmaids, the house we live in, whether I’ll work or not, the color of our children’s hair, and what we’ll do when they leave for college. I plan all of this even before the first date.

It’s a problem. I know this.

Not once has there even been a proposal, or much more than a few dates. I immediately find everything wrong with him and say good-bye, rather awkwardly, my dreams walking away under his footsteps. I’m much more apt to run away than stay and work my way through the muck. I just don’t like getting dirty and ultimately that is what a relationship entails.

It’s a problem. I know this.

There has been one boy , one boy whose mucky waters and quirks and idiosyncrasies I would gladly, gladly endure, but he did not feel the same. Meeting him was like meeting my other self. It was all those cheesy clichéd things; magical, mystical, and a bit eerie. Why he did not feel it too, I will never know. But, that didn’t stop me from planning our life together. And sometimes, I go back and visit that world I created in my head, just for comfort’s sake.

It’s a problem. I know this.

The prospect of a new boy has come around again and while we haven’t even really talked, I’ve been planning our summer together and football games in the fall with my friends, which will be his testing ground. I’m planning a Nov. wedding for next year. That gives us about 8 months before he proposes and about 8 months to plan. The funny thing is that I don’t care what size the ring is or how he proposes. I just want it.

It’s a problem. I know this.

None of this dreaming of the new prospect really matters. I’ll probably find every fault he never knew he had in the first 10 minutes and run screaming for the door.

It’s a problem. I know this.



rockin’ it old school

My nieces and nephew just called to tell me it’s “floatie night” at the pool. I am so there dude.



abide me

Some days I feel like I am just biding my time. Until what? I don’t know. I was asked to go to Italy a week ago. It is a question I have longed to be asked and have asked many a time, “want to go Europe?” I have never had the affirmation that I gave upon the question.

The plans are slowly slipping through my hands. I’ve told friend after friend that my fleeing to Italy is a long wished dream. I’ve tried for 5 years to find a single friend, one who is not committed to job or person to travel with me across the country, across the state, across the universe, whatever. Plans were sometimes begun and then ditched, jobs came up, boyfriends came up. I gave up. 2 years ago I packed my bags and headed to London, solo.

London calls to a part of me that no other city does. It is something guttural and in explainable. When I left I decided to move there. I researched teaching jobs, made phone calls, and sought possibilities. I did it all weakly because deep within me, the fear to have what I long for overwhelms the part of me that will actually get it.

And now, as the plans for Italy are slipping away I realize that life has decisions that have to be made and priorities that have to be set. And I recall London and the silence of that solo trip. I remember walking in through the crowds in the tube and wanting so badly to turn to the next person and tell them everything in me that screamed for London. I wished to show someone my favorite parks, to share a cab ride with, to explore the Tate Modern with. My brother sent a friend to my rescue, but it wasn’t the same. He was a distant, long ago acquaintance and it was only dinner. I wanted more. Instead, I reflected and when I returned home I vowed to find a travel partner, if not to go with me, at least to call at the end of the day. It hasn’t happened.

I have no problems with doing another solo trip and I will if that is what it comes downs to. Because the travel to Europe bug has bitten and I have to scratch this itch. I will go. I just don’t know when or with whom. And with whom is the question that I really want answered because while I complain that single friends are slipping by and that this Italy entranced single friend may herself slide away into coupledom by the time we actually plan something, what is to say that I won’t?

I just assume the solo life. I don’t imagine it any other way. Because imagining life the way it isn’t and possibly never will be brings a sadness in me that I refuse to acknowledge. So, instead, I tuck the fear of loneliness away and go about my life. I’ve become so comfortable in this monologue, but now I am accepting that there is more to this life that what I have created. I need dialogue. And I need rescue. I’m not lost. I don’t need completing. I need love. Good old fashion, you-can-look-like-a-fool-but-I-still-love-you love. I need someone in my corner. Because I know that I can do this alone. I am independent. I’m proud of it, but why is it bad to admit that I need rescue from myself? I need someone to show me my faults because without that mirror being held to my face, how will I improve?

And so, my trip to Italy, I’m planning it for sometime near or in 2006 and I want to go with someone. I want to sit at a café table in a piazza with warm, fresh bread and real olive oil on the table between us to share. I want Puccini al fresco and someone to ride a gondola with. Because riding a gondola solo is so not the point. And looking at the Sistine Chapel for the first time alone would be like having your first kiss with your own hand. So, Italy, you are my future and you will be conquered, in tandem. (I hope)




The Pogues are the original Green Day. Just go here and click on SALLY WAV and listen. I mean I like Green Day and all, but The Pogues people, The Pogues. Buy some. It's good for you, like brocoli.




I realized today that I am old and boring. Why? How? Well, at 4:15 pm on my way to the doctor again about this pesky ear infection I hear on the radio a song that goes something like this “I found a condom in my bed. You better start talking before I burn this motherf*cker down.” And then with disgust on my face and in my voice I said “Oh My God,” and turned the station to NPR.

I believe not in censorship. Censorship is wrong in every sense of the word, but how in the H-E-double hockey sticks did that song make it to the airways? How did that crap become publishable? Am I old? Is this the Elvis the Pelvis of our time? I think not, but you decide, I guess.



3 worlds collide

I wonder what I will be remembered for when I’m gone. Have I already made my mark on the world or am I on the brink of it now? It’s the existential question we all strive to answer. Some less casually than others (ahem).

But, there moments where the question rears its face and whispers in my ear and these are the times with my nieces and nephews. Like one night, in the way backseat of a mini-van, sitting beside my 4 year old niece I looked at her sneakily and put a finger to my mouth to signal a secret. Then I pulled my iPod shuffle from my purse, put one earphone in her right ear and one in my left ear and turned it on. We sat there, we two, listening to Billy Bragg and Wilco sing about California Stars.
I sang along and sang to her, mouthing the words. She pretended to know them too and “watermeloned” her way through it. We patted our legs to the beat while the second row passengers were singing the ABC song, no earphones in their ears. Then David Gray and January Rain
came on and I told her to pretend we were lying on the grass staring at the sky. I started waving my hands and swaying them like we were floating. “Pretend we’re floating on a cloud,” I said. She mimicked everything I did then I turned the tables and tried to mimic her. It was an awkward transition and one she didn’t realize was happening until she asked, “Are you copying me?” Her questioning made me see the difficulty we have with change, from being the follower to the followed. How we can go from happy and moving along to the rhythms and melody to being rigid and unprepared. Change, even in the presence of soft music, can be hard to handle. But then, in her 4 year old way, she moved quickly back to singing and waving her hands and I wonder if this is what she will remember about me, the way we used sing and dance in private and public places.



the light in the piazza

She said, “Italy?” And I said, “OK.”

No tickets have been bought yet, but I’m pretty serious about this. I’ve been itching for some good travel.

I think this will make a lot of people mad. I am on Financial Lockdown. It’s my term for being poor and watching what I spend very closely. And there are friends in faraway places that I could visit and there are birthday presents I never bought and… and … and… Well, here is the thing. I’m young. I’m single. I’m running out of single friends. The opportunities of trotting off to Italy on a whim are slimming down. I’ll take my Italys as they come and baby, I hope they’ve come.

“I’m a good traveler,” I said.
“I just hope you’re not a shopper,” she said.
“How can she be, she’s on Financial Lockdown,” said another.
“No, I’m a great traveler. I should be paid to do it,” I said.

So, if you feel inclined and want to see pictures from Italy then press the DONATE button on the right. And tell your friends and their friends and people, help! I’m going to have to take out a small loan, but I want to go to Italy, damnit!



play me

Coldplay. They're like... .perfect



as i lay reading

I like Oprah. I like her book club. And this summer she is choosing Faulkner. I couldn’t be happier. As I Lay Dying is her first choice for June and it is one of my favorites. It’s so strange and so beautiful. It chronicles a family’s life as the mother lies dead while the family readies to bury her. She is so close to all the action and weirdness of the husband and children. It’s a bit dark and at the same time light. I can’t remember the details of the story as I’m writing this to you so I think that I will be re-reading it along with a million other middle class white Americans who bow to the bookshelves of Oprah. I’ve taken it down from my own bookshelf. With the way I’ve been reading (or starting) books lately, let’s see if I actually read the whole thing.

And I just bought this book because this post alerted me that Melissa Bank had a new book out. Her first book is one of my very favorites in the whole wide world. And I didn't even put it on my book meme a few weeks ago, but I've read it twice too, a feat for me. Buy some books people and read this summer. And tell me what you find out about yourself.



happy birthday j.l.

Well, it’s just like last year, late again . It’s the way I roll. And I’m sorry J.

J. just got back from Hawaii. She says some things were stressful. Still, I don’t feel bad for her. It was freaking Hawaii. My jealousy still reigns.

She’s in Texas now and this is the 2nd year in a row that I haven’t seen her. The last time we met was in Seattle. She tends to find places that I can travel to in order to help me see the country. I don’t mind so much, but I wish I could visit her this summer. I really need to go see how her painting is going. Decorating long distance just doesn’t fly.

Her best friend just got in engaged, in Italy, to an Italian. Yep, we’re reeling. She’s one of the only ones left who understand how difficult it is to constantly be celebrating other people’s joys. When do we get to register? She totally gets it. I’m there with you J. and I know what you’re feeling. It will pass. Be happy for her happiness. I know it’s hard.

She had a blog once, but she got lazy, stopped writing and has now forgotten the password. I think she should reopen it. What do you think?

I’m sending this late and asking for forgiveness.

Happy Birthday J.!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!



the tale of freak girl

This weekend was planned years ago. When I graduated from college I knew that five years later I’d return to romp around in the fields and grounds of my silly youth. It’s reunions weekend, sort of. You see I went to school for 5 years because I got my Masters so this complicates things. The people I started school with, the ones who only took 4 years and got Bachelor degrees graduated a year before me. So, that reunion was last year and I didn’t go because none of my old friends or even old acquaintances went and I’m not going solo back to a reunion. So, officially I thought I’d go to this year’s reunion with my younger sorority sisters whom I adore. And I know that mentioning that I was in a sorority is so, well, sorority, but I love my sisters and yes I think it’s strange that I call my friends, sisters. Nonetheless, a weekend in the old srat house was planned. And then…I got sick.

I’m not good with sickness. I whine. I complain. I take a lot of naps. When I woke up yesterday with no voice I went to work anyway and after a day of snapping and clapping at kids I decided to give my voice another day and head out of town on Saturday. Then I woke up with my throat on fire, no voice, and feeling like crap. I decided to just chill and get on the road when I felt better. Then I took a 3-hour nap. When I awoke I knew that the doctor was calling. So, to the doctor I went which meant there would be a long wait. I entered at 4:45pm and left at 7:02pm.

Just signed in ahead of me was a boy named Jason. Jason was cute and walking a bit strange. He had dark brown hair, a ratty t-shirt, and khakis. He was preppy and slender and hot. When he tried to sit down he had to ease into his chair, his back straight. I considered his symptoms and his possible ailments. Maybe he had a wild night last night and since he was alone this meant his lover did not love him enough and thus I could clearly step in to render his back and life complete. Then he was called into the secretary’s office and through the class divider as he stood and handed her his insurance card I saw the flash of silver, a wedding ring on this left hand. Well there goes the Vera Wang dress I was planning.

I sat waiting and waiting and waiting and was distracted by a precious little girl running around with her grandparents. She was wearing a pink t-shirt and a pull-up. I wanted to tell her grandparents to clothe the child. Her grandfather sought help from the receptionist and came back with crayons and coloring paper. The little one went through paper after paper. She must have been only 2 years old and nothing kept her attention. She then ran after her grandmother when she was called in to see the doctor.

Boredom crept into the waiting room again and then a girl slightly younger than me walked in and asked the receptionist if she could be seen without her insurance card. She was denied so she grabbed her black purse off the counter and stormed out. She returned about 10 minutes later. I was still waiting. She signed in and took a seat across from me, next to the crayons and paper left by the little girl. She picked them up, rifled through the papers, found the one she wanted, clipped to the clipboard, picked up the crayons and started coloring. I gave her a death stare as I watched knowing that she was stealing for a 2 year-old. She instantly annoyed me. She was the kind of girl who made her presence immediately known in a room. She made noise, she took over, and she claimed everything in her sight as her own. She also wore a pink knitted hat in 80-degree weather.

“Do you feel like you’re going to die?” she asked me.

I looked up from my fixed stare at the floor a little puzzled, “No,” I said.

“Well I do. You just looked like you felt like you were going to die.”

“I'm just tired of waiting. They are taking a long time today,” my voice was raspy.

“What are you going to tell them is wrong with you?”


“What are you going to tell them is wrong with you?” Freak Girl asked again.

“I don’t know. I think I have strep throat.”

“Well, I think I am going to tell them I have a virus that might be an infection and if they would just give me pain killers to dull the pain on my last days on earth.”

Awkward smiles and quiet laughing ensued.

“I’m estranged from my boyfriend, he won’t take care of me, but I my cats. They give me love.”

“Well, at least you have the cats,” I said.

“I haven’t taken a shower in three days. I just feel that if you’re going to die, why shower.”

“I agree,” I lied and began to stare deeply at the wall ahead of me. I said a prayer silently that Freak Girl would get the clue that she did not deserve my attention and that in my sickness I did not want to make friends with someone who clearly is pissed that her boyfriend dumped her and wants some Valium.

10 minutes past.

“Do you have someone at home to take care of you?” asked Freak Girl.

“No,” I said with a look that I hope implied that I was independent and proud of it.

“Do you have animals?”

“No cats,” I said.

“What about dogs?”

“No dogs either,” or fish I thought.


“No,” I said a bit shocked. She was clearly a few years younger than me, but what about me screamed single mother?

“So you have no one at home. Well, you know when you have someone you just feel better about life and you, I don’t know, want to be better. When a man nurtures you, you just look at life better. It’s something that society says women shouldn’t feel but I don’t agree with it.”

I knew what she meant, that having boy or man care for you made you realize that even when you were down on yourself, someone was believing in you. I knew what she meant. I just didn’t want to talk about it. Or hear about it.

Freak Girl continued, “I think that we should be happy about love. Women should not feel bad about wanting a man. We should embrace our loneliness, but not accept it.” and then she was called into the secretary’s office.

I wanted to drop kick her, but that last line was a bit poignant. Still, she was Freak Girl and I hated her.

I listened as she told her tale of virus, infection, painkillers to the secretary when she was asked, “But, what’s wrong with you?” She claimed her sinuses hurt and she was tired. I wanted to pop in and give her my diagnosis, a migraine and mild depression for your breakup. When did girls become so scarred that we couldn’t see the signs of heartbreak, that we would parlay that into an infection simply to get drugs?

I was finally called in to see the doctor where I waited for him for another 30 minutes. I decided to lie down and when the MOST BEAUTIFUL DOCTOR I have ever seen opened the curtain, I sat up and wanted to scream, “Yes, yes, I’ll marry you. I’ll stay at home and raise our 12 children. I’ll cook and bake and clean and love you love you love you.” And then I saw his wedding ring. Damn. He stood in front of me and asked my problems. I wanted to tell him that if he was in my home there would be no problems, but I told him about the throat and the earache and ear infection and the pain it takes to swallow. He gave me eye contact with every word he or I spoke. I loved him instantly and was so jealous of his wife. He stood with his legs shoulder length apart and his arms crossed as he listened and asked. I love that stance. It means he is solid and strong and with that position he is protecting me. I wandered if he had children or if it would be a messy divorce when he left his wife for me.

My strep test was negative and the beautiful doctor could find nothing wrong with me, but gave me something for the pain in my throat. He thanked me when I left, but really, I thanked him, a lot.

Sitting at the receptionist’s desk, Freak Girl came sidling up behind me. “Will this girl ever leave me alone,” I thought.

“What’s wrong with you?” she asked.

“Nothing,” I shrugged.

“But they gave you something. What did they give you?”

“Painkillers,” I said.

“What? You got painkillers? I specifically asked for painkillers, but they never give them to you when you ask for them.”

“That because you’re crazy,” I wanted to shout at her, but she kept talking. I tried to cut her off, “It’s just Novocain,” I finally said.

“Oh,” she said and took a seat on the floor in the HALLWAY.

I finished paying and walked by her with a slight smile. I wanted to tell her “You need to see a psychiatrist, you stole those crayons from a 2 year-old and I’m totally blogging everything you’ve said to me.” But I didn’t.



you only wish

Because I'm this SEXY.




For a whole weekend last year I was, but this year the weekend is spoken for so just for tonight I’m Greek.



this is so my life

I feel awful. I’m getting over an ear infection –and who knew you could get one past the age of 3- when I get a cold on top of it. Yum, more snot in my head. So, I’ve taken naps for the last 2 days and today was awoken kindly by J. in Texas with a phone call. I asked about her lovely trip to Hawaii which she says wasn’t so lovely. Still, the beauty of Hawaii made up for any problems with people on the trip I think. And while talking to her I took a decongestant to dull the running of snot in my head. I perked up, I was feeling better and started cleaning- this totally meant I was on the mend- when the sneezing went out of control and caused me to end the phone conversation because snot was no longer in my head, but hanging from my face. Yummy, thought you’d enjoy that one. Have a good lunch, or dinner, or whatever!

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