When I see you now, I wonder how...

Oh, Amanda Marshall, you talented person you.
Anyway, Happy 42nd Birthday to my dad. Love you. Can't find your present.
What else is there to say? Not an awful lot really. I'm working on some poetry, as Artist's Block has stopped in for a visit. I haven't puked-yet-and I hope it remains that way for the rest of the day. I feel much better now that I have showered and washed my face and hair. According to my mother it's "excrutiatingly long" now. So she's probably going to find a reason to get mad at me and French braid the crap outta me. Talk about cruel and unusual punishment.