I am from the future.
I walk in on Journey composing a song. They are frustrated because they can't figure out eight notes. They play the rest of the song for me without the missing notes, and I immediately recognize it as one of their bigger hits. I smile enigmatically, and tell them they will find those eight notes. I leave the room. Later, I hear celebratory sounds as they figure out the notes.
The office is upstairs. It is very, very hot upstairs. And yet, I felt the need to write a little. Just until the pooling sweat threatens the electronics.
Been painting and cleaning and such. The downstairs looks amazing. Like we don't even live there. I should take pictures, just to prove to myself that I can clean when I want to. Like the sagging grandma showing off her vintage Playboy pics. See, I was somethin'.
Finally got around to reading Twilight. I thought it was okay, but I didn't get the hoopla. I mean yeah, competent, but a little too sweet for my tastes. But I was intrigued enough to continue the series. Holy New Moon, Batman! Just finished the second book, and I couldn't put it down. No, really. I started it this morning and just now finished. The writing wonderfully clear. Trying to figure out what's happening always jars me out of the story, like bad editing in a movie. And, okay, I admit it, at the beginning of the book (not telling what happens) I wanted to cry. I didn't, because I'm a tough broad (people who know me are cackling now). Also because I put on a big frowny face and got a soothing hug from the Spousal Unit. That's right, I got hugs because I was sad about a book. He understands these things. So obviously, I'm sucked right in. Gonna start the third book, Eclipse, in about two minutes. Downstairs. Where it's cooler.
Update the first:
We are selling Casa Sennkitty. We should have done it months ago, before our accounts ran so low! But all's well. Our Realtor is confident of a quick sale, once I finish the damned painting and clean up the back yard. Yes, I will destroy a small, thriving ecosystem to sell the house. We are finding ourselves...relieved. This place was always too big for us. We don't use the living room, and the dining room is storage. Even though we've lived here three years, we never finished painting or hanging art. Just never felt "ours". Sounds like I'm rationalizing after the fact, doesn't it? So be it.
Update the second:
We had our last Immigration interview today! As in, we await a fingerprinting appointment, and the Spousal Unit gets his Permanent Resident card. After that, he'll apply for Citizenship as soon as possible, as he's hot to vote. Probably won't make it for this November. He reminds me of myself at 17. Whadd'ya mean I can't vote yet? WAIL!
And that's all for now. If you've written and haven't heard back, it's because I'm knee-deep in Sail White. And yes, Liz, I do want to get together! Next week?