jitterbug: (vintage.GSTQ)
last night elly woke up at 2:30 in the morning and puked all over herself and her crib. ian changed her and her bedding. 20 minutes later she puked again. i changed her and her bedding. 20 minutes later she puked again. lather rinse repeat. at that point we moved her into our bed and i'd hang her over the side so that she could hurl on the floor. vomitfest went on for 4 hours straight. toward the wee morning hours the poor kid was so exhausted that she was puking with her eyes closed.

during the day it started coming out the other end.

she seemed much better toward the end of the night. hopefully it was a 24 hour stomach bug. i've seen enough vomit and crap in the last 24 hours to last a lifetime.

[at the exact moment that i finished typing "lifetime.", she puked again, albeit lightly.]

meanwhile, sashi and i were chit-chatting )

we been friends for 7 years yet i still can't get straight answers out of him. sometimes i feel like our friendship is stale because i can often predict the dead ends our conversations will inevitably hit, and then, when i'm ready to scream, he's let me talk him into doing something ridiculously out of character for him -- like skinny dipping in a 40 degree pond upstate or jumping into a huge dirty puddle in the middle of the street.


Dec. 12th, 2008 11:26 am
jitterbug: (cool.calm.collected.)
an old friend-of-a-friend found me on facebook. i've always knew that she'd marry the first man who proposed; she'd date any man who exhibited interest for a few months and by the third week of dating she'd begin soliciting her friends opinions on whether he'd propose in the near future. eventually the guy would ditch her and a week later she'd be doing the same dance with a different guy. finally she got engaged to a guy she was at best lukewarm about. she "liked" him and all, but she "liked" every guy who offered the potentiality of a ring for her finger. we lost touch [read: i couldn't stand her anymore] shortly after her engagement.

fast forward 5 years. she's a married, suburb-ed, fat, and bored housewife. after a couple exchanged messages about our families, she basically sent me a message saying that i don't have to fake happiness and she wishes i would just admit that i'm miserable as well... umm...

so because she's an epitome of an idiotic russian satan islander who fucked herself in order to have her life mimic her warped idea of where she should be by 30, i have to join her in her misery? sorry, in terms of my family, i never wish i was anywhere but exactly where i am. i don't mind if she shares her unhappiness with me, i saw it coming years ago, but i don't appreciate this comradeship she's trying to establish, and i really don't appreciate the not so subtle implication that i'm lying.

i'm debating between ignoring her or sending her a bitchy response.

[eta: scratch this] unrelated:
can someone help me out by picking up a pair of girly ML woollybottoms (if they stock)? i think they'll go on sale at 3:15pm. my wireless is too slow for me to score anything and elly expressed interest in a pair of footies for the holidays. i'll PP you back right away. please.


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