caffeine, don't fail me now, baby.
Pumpkin Pie the First: done.
Pumpkin Pielet the Second: done. a bit too done. oh well. it's not really a pielet. it's just a little less...dense. yeah. that's it.
Margarita Pie the First: ...shush.
Margarita Pie the Second: ...uh...dependent on marit finding another can of sweetened condensed milk somewhere. this is not as big of a stretch as you might think.
what time is it? oh yeah....crap.
Am also supposed to finish up my last moleskine and go, but I need to sit down, stare at it, and repeat to myself "Marit. Perfectionism is BAD. It's fine. It's done. Remember Mrs Hess? Forcibly taking away your self portrait? Mrs Hess is, right now, at this very moment, twitching, and she doesn't know why. Put. The Sketchbook. Down." until I can shove it in an envelope.
what did we learn today, kids? Don't mention Iowa being more awesome than California to a Witness. (I mean...it's Iowa. ...not Luther, but Iowa. I-ow-a.)
Also, How To Make Someone's Eyes Go Boogley and Score One For Classical Dance: find a video on youtube of a professional male ballet dancer warming up with a rig on that shows muscle strain and forces. watch fellow EMT eyes go boogley and hear lots of "WTF is that?" "that's a quad." "that can't be a quad muscle. that's fucking huge." Yes, boys, tiny sissy little dancer-man can break you. in half. without breaking a sweat.
funfact? Adrian Paul is exactly 24 years older than I am. Yes, you're going to have to put up with more geekiness. this is what comes of being all post-migrane-fucked-up and watching a whole day of Highlander. I'm singing Queen to myself and making my partner look at me funny as I do parry drills waiting in hallways.