Leave it to Ursula
Jan. 1st, 2008 02:24 pmI just saw a really wonderful New Year's wish over on
ursulav's journal:
May it be full of love, friendship, amusement, art, a reasonable degree of profit, violent video games, hot sex, and decent baked goods.
I'd be willing to trade my share of video games for a larger share of something else...anybody?
ETA: A good start.
I remember, when I was about 19, being served red beans & rice (with a side of black-eyed peas) on New Year's Day. I was a guest at a friend's house and thought it was a pretty nifty tradition when I heard about the symbolism -- symbolism that lost its charm when I spent the rest of the day sick as a Yankee dog. Oh, well.
Today, I fixed myself a lovely diced ham, spinach, and Swiss cheese omelet for breakfast. (The fact that it happened a bit after 2 p.m. does not change my assertion that this was "breakfast.") It seemed like a nice New Year's alternative for a Scottish/Irish/French broad who does not want to spend the rest of the day with a Very Sad Tummy.
Other metaphor-laden tasks for the day include covering windows with insulating film and stripping/washing all the bedding. I plan to accomplish all of this with fortification from yummy coffee and happy pants. (Hey,
featherynscale! Can I please have my rubber duckie PJ pants back? Unless you're using them for UNIPEP...in which case I'd pretty please like an alternative to use this winter.)
May it be full of love, friendship, amusement, art, a reasonable degree of profit, violent video games, hot sex, and decent baked goods.
I'd be willing to trade my share of video games for a larger share of something else...anybody?
ETA: A good start.
I remember, when I was about 19, being served red beans & rice (with a side of black-eyed peas) on New Year's Day. I was a guest at a friend's house and thought it was a pretty nifty tradition when I heard about the symbolism -- symbolism that lost its charm when I spent the rest of the day sick as a Yankee dog. Oh, well.
Today, I fixed myself a lovely diced ham, spinach, and Swiss cheese omelet for breakfast. (The fact that it happened a bit after 2 p.m. does not change my assertion that this was "breakfast.") It seemed like a nice New Year's alternative for a Scottish/Irish/French broad who does not want to spend the rest of the day with a Very Sad Tummy.
Other metaphor-laden tasks for the day include covering windows with insulating film and stripping/washing all the bedding. I plan to accomplish all of this with fortification from yummy coffee and happy pants. (Hey,
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