ardent bullshit comes down every faultline gushing heavily into jest kindly luscious melons nodding openly post quakes resting still to undermind various wonderous xylophones yawning zealously

Monday, December 20, 2010

Creature Comforts

No longer do I save the good bubble bath.

If I want to, I sleep in my ballet tights, my big sweater from high school, and soft socks.

And I'm not ashamed to admit that I enjoy staying in, watching the Golden Girls, and doing cross-stitch on weekend nights.

Two-thousand-ten, thank you for knocking me down so hard that I had to rediscover myself and participate in activities that make me truly happy. Without shame.



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