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This is what packing is like when you have cats Dante . . . “Boxes? Yay! I’m going to nom the box flaps!” “Plant? Yay! I’m going to nom the plant. Why you yelling?” “Why do you keep trying to put stuff in my kitty fort? See me rolling around in your box. Aren’t I cute?” “If I didn’t have . . . → Read More: Packing . . . are perfect for playing hide-and-seek . . . → Read More: Rainy Sundays I am texting the Captain (who is away yet again) about the puppy I put a deposit on (because I’m lonely . . . and he’s not here to say no). The Captain goes off on a tangent about one of his friends. Him: [blah blah blah] and he’s not listening to me [blah blah blah blah . . . → Read More: <3 Part of the appeal of the Internet, for me anyway, is that you know me through my words. My words have power. I remember in high school when I was a mousy, socially-awkward kid in the back of the English class, no one paid me any attention. Not until I handed in my first writing assignment. . . . → Read More: This Is Me My family moved when I was nine. Not across the country or even to another state, just the next town over. Even so, for me it was a BIG DEAL. I was beside myself with excitement. I was leaving a tiny private school where my entire grade consisted of six students to go to a public . . . → Read More: Loser |
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