Sunny with a chance of Nyah Nyahs

I can only assume that the cosmos knows best: every time my urge to call B — just to hear his voice — gets too much to bear, I pick up the phone… only to discover that whichever phone I happen to be  [more...]

I now know what the next step in this mourning process is: laying in bed alone getting drunk on cheap white zinfandel.
Yum!

Today I got an email about one of those websites that tracks people you went to school with; it was a page for the Jefferson class of 1985, and of course I started poking around to see who was listed. And there was a  [more...]