i meant to go out to $1 margarita night tonight. honest i did. i even called lauren to try and make plans. she had a head cold and she's taking small children on an overnight camping trip. i wouldn't go out under those circumstances either.
i meant to write a proper entry this evening too, but my head is about to explode, i have to be up early, and every time i've moved today i've dropped something, bumped something, or otherwise injured myself or others. and i take care of children.
so right now i'm going to curl up in my bed with my english muffin pizzas and my trashy magazine (ok, JANE is as trashy as i can stand to get, but still...), and you'll have to wait until tomorrow to hear about the strange and vivid dream i had involving my grandparents' house, and the even stranger one i had last night involving people i knew in highschool, and this diary.
oh, and a word to the wise (Slapwanger): if you plan on insulting me (in my guestbook no less), there are some things you should remember. one, that creativity counts. when you insult someone who's been receiving insults for most of their life, they're liable to look at you and say "is that all you've got? second, you might want to leave a return address. unless of course you wanted to be cowardly and immature. in which case, bravo.
now everyone go read someone else's diary, they're more interesting than this one.
beatpoetgrrl
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