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That first-line meme.
Jan. 2nd, 2009 12:17 amJanuary: Lacking other recognition of the season, it is actually possible to get your hands on a copy of "Auld Lang Syne" in approximately 47 seconds and then put it on repeat.
February: Slow day at work, thank goodness.
March: For the record:
Just successfully survived what I think is the first party I've hosted in eleven years. Close to twelve. (Reception at the wedding doesn't count. Was too busy being just-married.)
April: Lovely day today. I don't think the fog will last, but right now it's beautiful. Wet earth and black leaves and thin lines of beaten green grass, and soft white air all around.
May: (In April, I read...)
...not nearly as much.
June: It really is not the heat, it's the humidity. It's meant to rain tonight (and tomorrow, and the day after), but right now it's miserable. The cats are lying around, attempting to attain maximum kitty-to-air exposure.
July: My husband understands.
August: There was a bat in our house!
September: So I came downstairs this morning. And there were five or six big fat drops of slightly drooly blood on the tile in front of the washing machine.
October: I cut my hair. I was actually tempted to take clippers to it, but figured being bald or buzz-cut was not appropriate for work. So: twenty-five-odd minutes in the bathroom with a pair of scissors.
November: Well, my computer's back. Slowly excavating the office, and wishing I had a CD handy. I am *craving* the Pogues right now, and I'm stuck with YouTube. Still, the day is progressing.
December: I have my tickets for London in March. Confirmation should arrive shortly.
February: Slow day at work, thank goodness.
March: For the record:
Just successfully survived what I think is the first party I've hosted in eleven years. Close to twelve. (Reception at the wedding doesn't count. Was too busy being just-married.)
April: Lovely day today. I don't think the fog will last, but right now it's beautiful. Wet earth and black leaves and thin lines of beaten green grass, and soft white air all around.
May: (In April, I read...)
...not nearly as much.
June: It really is not the heat, it's the humidity. It's meant to rain tonight (and tomorrow, and the day after), but right now it's miserable. The cats are lying around, attempting to attain maximum kitty-to-air exposure.
July: My husband understands.
August: There was a bat in our house!
September: So I came downstairs this morning. And there were five or six big fat drops of slightly drooly blood on the tile in front of the washing machine.
October: I cut my hair. I was actually tempted to take clippers to it, but figured being bald or buzz-cut was not appropriate for work. So: twenty-five-odd minutes in the bathroom with a pair of scissors.
November: Well, my computer's back. Slowly excavating the office, and wishing I had a CD handy. I am *craving* the Pogues right now, and I'm stuck with YouTube. Still, the day is progressing.
December: I have my tickets for London in March. Confirmation should arrive shortly.
