For dear Cari, who believes in chickens, another City Hall hen:
So the doctor emailed me. Finally. I do realize that it had only been a day and a half since I emailed her, but I am somewhat internet obsessed. Had you noticed? I like it when the emails fly back and forth, two people on line at the same time (but funnily enough I hate IMing), zap, zing, splat. I have a zjoosh sound that plays on my computer when I get a new email, and it’s such a pretty, happy sound. I like to hear it often. I DON’T like to wait a day and a half to hear back from a date. And it was a good email – she had fun, would like to do it again. Yeah, yeah….
I am so impatient that I bore myself.
Plotted with darling Greta on Sunday. Won’t reveal our plans to take over the world, but I just have to let you know that she is as remarkable on the phone as she is on her blog. Damn. And her plans for me to name my Rogue “Anne of Green Cables” just flipped my brain OUT.
Pop Culture update:
Sex and the City rocks with fibery goodness, no? A cabled pink hoodie AND an Icelandic lopi, on one screen. Damn. And Mischa’s still hot-hot-hot.
To the straight people watching The L Word: Be advised, a woman who is engaged to her boyfriend whom she loves, when attracted to a stunning Italian woman, will NOT cry copiously and demand to be left alone, and then pull her sweatshirt over her head. In the middle of the day. While the Italian looks mostly uninterested. Won’t happen. The rest of the show is humorously on-key, though.
Now. It’s my weekend. I’m putting my feet up for a while. I’ve been online WAY too long. You know when you just can’t pry your little fingers off the keyboard, and you realize you’re giving up quality knitting/reading/walking/writing time so you can read other people’s thoughts about their own knitting/reading/walking/writing time? Das me. I’m out.
Your comment about The L Word is dead on!
As for the doctor, you mentioned the other day that she is tall. My thought is this- tall is good. I am not tall but my gal is and I love being the wee one. I have the impression though- I have no idea why- that you are taller than I am- somewhere between 5’6 and 5’9. Maybe your don’t feel wee.
Anyhoo, I think tall is good. That’s all I’m saying.
Hey!
I might cry and pull my sweatshirt over my head!
Well….
maybe not….
A doctor, well, well Miss Rachel….Weren’t you just saying something about your not liking doctors, funny how that happens. Do me a favor and relax, take a deep breath and chill…not everyone has a keyboard glued to their side, and knitting needles as fingers…So be patient. Okay Momma Nina has spoke, oh yeah, and always wear clean nice underwear, you never know when you are going to get some!
EYE KAN”T CPELL…Sorry for the typo, am working off very little sleep, and my ears ringing and boobs sore forom being screamed at and kicked last night from the kids in the hospital, GOD BLESS those 3 year olds! -Nina
I DO believe in chickens! I DO! If everyone believed in chickens, the world would be a better place.
See Rachel? There are no accidents….Anne of Green Cables, postively serendipitous! (and you thought I was gonna comment about the doc….ok, ok….hubba hubba!!)
Thank you for not revealing our plans for the yarn store (oh wait, world domination, yeah that’s it) just yet…..*hee* I like surprizes, especially springing them! The SUN actually came out here this afternoon and someone remarked that I *must be HAPPY*….oh yeah, how couldja tell? Oh the fact that I’m a few inches off the ground and grinning from ear to ear cuz I got to talk to RACHAEL for real and damn, if we haven’t known each other a couple of lifetimes already. Kewl.
Dr date probably just didn’t want to seem too eager.. Glad she emailed you back and said she had a good time 🙂 Are you going to see her again?? (Nosy readers want to know 😉
I translated part of your page into Pirate:
Plotted with darlin’ Greta on Sunday. (Bilge!) Won’t reveal our plans t’ take over the world, but I just have t’ let ye know that she be as remarkable on the phone as she be on her blog. (Aarhh!) Damn. (Aarhh!) ‘n her plans for me t’ name me Rogue “Anne o’ Green Cables” just flipped me brain OUT. (Bloody privateers!)
Then I translated it with Tha Shizzolator (the Snoop Dogg translator):
Plotted wit darling Greta on Sunday n’ shit. Won’t reveal izzle plans take over da world, but I just has let yo’ ass know that brizzle is as remarkable on da phone as brizzle is on her blog n’ shit. Damn, know what I’m sayin’? And her plans fo’ me name my Rogue “Anne of Green Cables” just flipped my brain OUT n’ shit.
hee hee. for shits and giggles. -c
I believe in chickens! My grandmother has a chicken named “Kuka” as a pet. Why, I don’t know. She lives in a house in urban Los Angeles, ferpetesake. Not Green Acres. But we believe in chickens, dammit!
And go on…rub it in that I can’t get Sex and the City here. Sob! I need me some HBO. Why is there no HBO here? Vive la France!
[I think I had too much caffeine this a.m. But your entries always make me so chatty. Bet you’re a blast to talk with in person, too! :-)]
I believe in chickens! I’m clapping my hands for them right now!
Anne of Green Cables. It’s funny and painful at the same time, like all good puns.
Being attracted to stunning Italian women shouldn’t be cause for sexual anxiety. Isn’t EVERYONE attracted to Italian women? Please.