The Boy intends to spend at least one day of our very brief trip to Mexico on a boat, fishing for marlin.
I guess it’s time to face the truth:
My boyfriend is a six-toed cat and an assault charge shy of having to change his name to Ernest Hemingway.

I don’t think the world has ever seen such a forlorn looking Easter bunny before.

Updates are few and far between because I don’t seem to have time for blogging and there isn’t anything superfab enough going on to do anything about my schedule, although if it’s easier to believe I’ve actually run away and joined the circus like I promised to do when I was six, go right ahead. […]

This is one of those things were I make something out of nothing because The Boy, in his own right, made something out of nothing. Yay.

At four this morning, The Boy, bearing Oreos, wanted to talk about our collective future together.
I did what any normal person would do in a similar situation: I sent him to the store for milk and pretended to be in a dead sleep when he got back.