Passel

the heater is loud beside me, but it keeps this little bitty perfect office of mine from being a little bitty perfect icebox.

Mystery Play I radio tells me a story of man vs ants (large large ants i am assuming) from 1950 something- when the cool shiv was on a box sitting in the corner of your living room, and people still used their imaginations instead of having it painted out for us on a new box blaring with lights, color, special effects, and a soundtrack from hipsters.

a 180 sits almost empty reminding me that it is nearing its extinction- the idiots who make them have decided they aren't selling well enough (sheesh, would they like to see my check register!), so they are discontinuing them.

i can't find another i like as well. this makes me not happy.

i am addicted to Facebook. i enjoy seeing what's going on with my friends. and most of them are my real friends. it is nice to stay somewhat 'connected' when life keeps us all running.

i have found long lost friends--- and am reconnecting, and i am tickled pink.

it is ridiculously cold out. it should be snowing a blizzard for the temperatures out there. i prefer snow if it is going to be blistering cold.

Super J comes home to ICT this weekend. i miss him.

my children are as attached to things that remind of us of things just as much as i am. i hope i have not given them complexes that will cause issues for them later in life.

i gave H some of Abby's perfume. now her and K's room smell like Abby, and it saddens me that i am not smelling it on her, or at her apartment, and that she is gone. i miss her terribly.

i have a screwy family. it saddens me. i can't fix it. that's the worse part.

is it 'worse' or 'worst'? is worst an appropriate word to use? it seems like improper english to me.

i have some of the best girl friends ever. really. they make me proud to be their friend, to know them, to have them love me, to be near them. they know who they are, and if they don't- i have failed them.

i want to affect people. i want to someday die- and people have beautiful stories to tell of how i helped, or loved, or laughed with them- i want them to feel, think, and BE different because i worked hard. i hope this isn't conceit. its not for me that i want it (well, a little of course)--- but because i see greatness in them and want them to feel life. [note to reader: this is hard to describe in words apparently]

i love to write.

i wish i had more time to read.

i need my eyes checked- which probably means new glasses--00-- oh wait! i never got my first pair.

i have a beautifully, wonderful, amazing, complicated husband. i am better just because he loves me.

i would donate to charities if my paycheck allowed.

i am taking 19 hrs this semester as if i have nothing else going on- i won't once January 19th comes along. i will miss you friends.

p.s. the above might just kill me!

i love sending cards but rarely receive them.

well, i think that's it. a 'passel' is a noun: a large number or amount
i think i wrote a passel of things going on in mi cerebra right now. thank you Nickhole for reminding me to 'vomit' here ever so often.

stay warm.