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Showing posts from January, 2013

Drama mama.

Despite (or perhaps because of?) my no more drama policy for 2013, I find myself embroiled in yet another online battle with a silly little girl. I'm on the fence with this one. You see, I'm sick to death of hearing/talking about it, but I'm also physically unsettled by the speed of escalation and the depth to which it plummeted. Forgive me for beating a dead horse, but I'd like to put a couple of things out into the universe. If you publicly lambast a friend of mine over a minor misunderstanding, I'm going to take offense. If you let your friend call me or my friends scumbags without stepping in, I'm going to take offense. If you then go on to email other friends of mine to tell them how horrible I am, I'm going to take offense. Call me crazy. Also, if you post something on Facebook, it's not "private". Venting is not the purpose of Facebook. If you want to vent privately, buy a journal. If you want to vent publicly, start a blog.

Ode to Himself.

Christmas over and done with, Himself had to return to the UK to work on the 2nd January, while Iz and I spent a little more time with family. In the week between his return and our return, he was a busy little bee, and those activities are detailed below. * He hoovered the entire house, sofas included. * He steam cleaned the wood and tile floors. * He cleaned the bathroom, and I mean CLEANED. * He did a shop so we'd have food the first few days back, and bought the expensive avocados. * He left me with a full tank of petrol in the car. * And since our return, he's done all the dishes every night. Amazing. Three cheers for Himself, people! HUZZAH! HUZZAH! HUZZAH!