Dancing!

Yay!  Teena and CeeJay showed up to go dancing with us!  CeeJay didn't dance, he talked with us and sat on the sidelines to watch Teena's purse, but he was good company between dances.  Teena danced!  She's good! 

My calves are mooing - it's been far too long since I last danced.  And I'm going to rub eor's calves before bed - he danced much more than me, and much more bouncily.  :)  Right now, though, trying to get some water into me. 

/me is an effing genius

Intermittent coughs for both of us.  Think it was bad air in the club, last night.  We've been a bit stiff, today, too, but not too excessive considering it's been so long

( I took the quick and dirty IQ test - I suspect it is a kindly one. )

(Am backdate posting this because I forgot to post it last night - that's how much of an effing genius I am.)

blueberry smoothies, metal allergies and roses

I've been getting addicted to having blueberry smoothies (with vanilla/maple yogurt) in the mornings, since Hawk visited and made one for me.  Makes me feel very close to my grandmother - I used to be waked by the sound of her blender at 4:30AM whenever I stayed over.  This morning when I pulled out the last of the blueberries I noticed one looked all grossly smooshed and brown... then I realized it was a chocolate chip which had fallen from the bag, on the next shelf up.  I didn't want it to feel lonely, so I added a few of it's mates.  Blueberry chocolate chip smoothie?  Best thing evah.  Totally not a good idea.  Really.

I have itchiness around my neck from wearing one of the necklaces which eor makes when we we went out dancing on Saturday.  Another proof for the non-existence of God.  An omniscient god would have a more subtle sense of irony than to make me allergic to metal and give me a boyfriend who makes chainmail jewelry. 

Oh, and BTW, speaking of my darling, click here to see a pic of the roses he sent me, Friday.  (*smugly attempts to pretend she's still not squeeing inside*)  Of course I'm no great photographer, and had to use the flash, the colors are off (the wall behind them is green), but just so you can get the idea.  Picture me at work on Friday - sweaty from hauling baggage - and Mistress of the Night coming to yank me over to the other station, saying that the Director wants a word with me and that I'm probably in trouble.  I could tell she was lying, because she couldn't help smiling, but I had absolutely no idea what was up.  A very long box awaited me, with a blank card in it.  Thirteen long-stemmed red roses, although I didn't realize at first that there were thirteen.  I also completely didn't realize we were coming up on thirteen years.  I guess he left the card blank because he had too much to say to fit on a card.  My eor.  *hugs him close* 

I remember reading, once, that women put the important news in a letter in the Post Script.