I took a programming class in college and have had this inside joke url ever since
This is perhaps the cruelest security question I have ever set for myself. The question, in being asked, manifests its correct answer.
Favorite teacher? Favorite pet? Mother’s maiden name? No other query has proven to be as steadfast in its ability to simultaneously log me into my bank account and ruin my day.
Every now and then I go through a phase where I have absolutely no desire to write, whatsoever. It generally means that I’m either being dishonest to myself about something, or I just haven’t felt real sunlight on my skin in too many days (or is it weeks, or is it months).
As penned by myself, two hours to midnight and after three glasses of champagne:
1. Go to yoga at least twice a week!
2. Eat more fruit! Eat more vegetables! Make more smoothies!
3. Treat your Seasonal Affective Disorder with liberal doses of electric tanning beds!
4. Go camping in the springtime!
5. Floss.
What I neglected to remember at the time, of course, is that I never do the last thing on my lists. Bring it, 2008.
Here’s a fun way to find out that your high school sweetheart got married last weekend: through the Facebook status update of his little sister. “Hey, she’s a sister-in-law now, eh? Well that’s exciting for her. Oh, wait a minute . . .”
The day began cloudy, and the high was fifty-four degrees. I opened all the windows in our apartment and threw on long underwear and a sweater.
October I love you.
Small pleasures: previously-owned clothing (one dollar), the colors navy and orange near one another, and a china set that is far too nice for my income bracket (thanks mom).