Vicki is fattening Vera up.

The sky looked like an oysters' throat this evening. I thought that, and then I immediately thought that I sounded like I was writing a paper on something I disliked. That is the sort of comment that snows professors into thinking you are creative and earns you an A+. 

I wonder what it feels like to have a thick upper lip.

I cleaned today. All day. In the rehearsal hall. I was spattered with rodent fecal matter and mummified toad sperm from the late 70's by the time I finished and had blown through a box and a half of tissues. And it now looks as though NOTHING HAPPENED. Also four nosebleeds. Tom says I need to go get a shot of Vitamin K. But I don't know if they do that and feel pretty sure Tom just wants me to get a shot.

It's weird to have boobs touching your chin.

When I asked a very sleepy, somewhat tipsy Brett last night where I should put away his box of pictures he answered, "In the makeup closet scroot." He has  no memory of this. I repeated it over and over to myself in my head for ten minutes before I fell asleep to guarantee my own memory of such a phrase so as to be able to remind him in the morning. 

My kitten is now sitting on my chest and I can no longer see the computer screen.

Chase thinks he is going to make me go see Spring Awakening. I have told him he is welcome to try. He got me to go see something I wasn't too keen on seeing several years ago but I was heavily medicated at the time and remember nothing except for Raisinets and watching two members of the spot-op crew necking in the fly rail.

Joseph is in Tennessee meeting members of his beau's family. They started off with Putt-Putt, advanced to pitching Joseph at the mini-mall en route to Walmart for a two hour holiday family portrait session and now (after retrieving Joseph) are off to Dollywood.  This is kind of like me going to a cocktail party, a bridal shower, and filling my pants with mayonnaise. 

I'm going to rent some "Office." Funny.