Holy crap. It's November.
We had about 3 or 4 groups of childrens at our door last night, begging for candy. A disappointing Halloween, for sure.
Grumpy Old Lady Moment From Halloween, 2007: The kid from across the street made a 2nd appearance at the door, with a different group of friends around 8:30 PM. He pushed his way to the front of the group, and loudly announced, "You'll let me have more candy since I live across the street!" Then the little punk stuck his grimy hand in my candy basket and grabbed a fistful of chocolate.
The smile never left my face, but inside I was calling him and his Mama a few choice names.
Punk-ass kids these days.
So I worked a little bit and finally finished moving all my older "LiveJournal" posts over here. They are not quite as fun to read as I was imagining, but at least now I'm all in one spot on the Internets. In the archives, everything before November, 2005 is the old LiveJournal fluff.
I wish my husband would tell me my hair looks nice when I go and spend money to have it trimmed and un-grayed. I realize there's not much nice to say about my hair, but a half-truth like, "Your hair looks nice, honey," beats, "You got your hair cut again? I thought you wanted it to grow out," any day of the week.
There's a small seed of thought, wayyyy in the back of my head, that I want to start running. Jogging, if you will. I'll give you a minute for the shock to wear off.
I know. It's CRAZY. But my friends have started it. They've already run a 5K without me. And last week, one of those afore-mentioned friends actually ran a 26-mile marathon. At this point, I can't imagine doing a slow jog for more than about 30 seconds. But if I start ... and keep trying ... it's bound to work, right? I mean, I don't THINK I was born without a Running Gene. I just can't remember ever running. That's sad, really.
Anyway, I think I'm going to give it a shot. Maybe.
If I can find a good bra.