Well apparently I don't get to have comments anymore. Blogger just stopped letting me have them. All my old posts have a place for it but the new ones don't. I tried looking at the template but it's a little bit like trying to see the 3D image; it'll never happen.
I'm flirting with the idea of a condo rather than a house. I'm sure I'll fall out of love with the idea in 24 hours, but since the Weyborn house has obviously been cheating on me (infact, I shall now refer to it as the "Arlington house" to put some distance between us), I feel I should do something radical in retaliation. I mean, sure, it could still call, but in the meantime, there's nothing to stop me from looking at condos, bitch. And I will look the shit out of them. Cheating whore. And I just don't think it'll notice if I dye my hair.
A condo would mean we could have niceness, but it would be approximately the same size and honestly, I'm afraid it would just feel like another apartment. Classy neighbors would be a plus. Hopefully no more Smelly Lady of 80,000 Cats or the clownhouse below of 60 family members, none of whom you ever see twice. However, I've really fallen in love with the whole "separate tub and shower" business and it hurts to see it any other way. That, plus a big kitchen and two stories, jeez, what's so hard about that?
And I'm a very terrible friend, as my friend's birthday is tomorrow and I was *going* to make her something--I have pumpkin ginger cheesecake I've been dying to make. Derek might kill me if I made that and then took it outside the house, plus I got home at 11pm and there is no goddamn way me and cheesecake are happening tonight. And of course I work with her and she's five days older than me. She and her husband are incredibly terribly poor, so I have to cook something rather than buy her something to avoid the awkwardness five days from now. Not that I have money to blow, but you see where I'm headed. I forsee buying something at the grocery store...
I think I'll mention the condo thing to Derek to see what happens. It will be the next step beyond flirting, whatever that is. Courting? Just SEE if I care, Arlington house! I don't NEED your goddamn jet tub!
