My leg smells like putrid milk, my hands are dry and cracking from bathroom cleaner, there is something extremely nasty on the front of my shirt… and my hair has “product” that I didn’t put in it…
…But…
…The house is *finally* clean. I’ve been cleaning since around four this afternoon (it is now 7:28 PM) and have most of it dealt with in one way or another. I still have a Salad Shooter I need to get rid of and Lucky’s toy basket is full of half eaten squirrels and rubber chickens. I guess, in a way, there’s always work to do. At least that frees up most of this weekend to go to Girl’s Night Out and possibly meet up with Mrs. F. And get my car cleaned since it now has an aftermarket shag carpet.
My grandmother called a little while ago and asked if I would sign her up for Facebook. She has two cousins on it that she wants to keep in touch with. I kind of enjoy the fact that I can have a little bit of space between us, finally. I really didn’t want to close up that physical space with being virtually close. Plus, the woman calls me almost daily to find out how to forward emails or which program *IS* her email… I don’t want to even begin to explain Facebook to her. Besides, Facebook is not for 90 year old women. Its in the Terms & Agreements that no one old enough to remember the Great Depression is allowed to even know the site exists.
This video makes me feel incredibly normal. I had to share. There’s nothing like a Storm Trooper as a background dancer to make your night better.
Albert comes to Texas to visit in eleven days. My boss still hasn’t approved my time off. I asked a month and a half ago. I have a feeling I’m just going to have to tell her when I’ll be there and when I won’t.
Anyway. I’m off to read my book for a while. The zombies and chivalry await.
Tales from a Motherless Daughter 
I hoped you watched the 12-minute version of this. 12 Minutes well spent, I think!