full is not heavy as empty, not nearly my love. not nearly my love. not nearly...

weird week.
minor scare to start things off, but all is well. (Unusual bump+big imagination=FREAKOUT)
X+J are in BKLYN already and sending pictures that go "Nyah Nyah Nyah!" My favorite is of the street outside their window. It makes good wallpaper, too. wishing i was in Brooklyn now now now already and quietly frightened that D.C. is going to charm Lily away from us the way Angelina Jolie hooked Brad Pitt away from Jennifer Aniston.
work is very tiring & for unknown reasons, more stressful than usual, despite the fact that nothing's really going on. I think I'm just tired & have had a lot on my mind, so work is more of a bother than normal.
luckily have a beautiful new collection of Sinéad O'Connor songs to curl up with and woo-hoo the next CRACKER disc from Netflix to watch whilst eating mint chocolate chip ice cream. (After Celebrity Charades, which is me & Dave's new obsession)
and bonus- Mr. T brought me some Pez and a new Eeyore Pez dispenser. good day.

listening to: Sinéad O'Connor/COLLABORATIONS
on tap for dvd: CRACKER: Series 2, Disc 1 and NINE QUEENS (how can this be as good as CRIMINAL without Diego Luna?)
bookwise: Yeah, still reading SUMMERLAND. Look, I haven't read any of it in like a week, alright?!? Jeez. And I'm a slow reader. And I'm just... not that into it.
in the subject: Fiona Apple, "The First Taste". Come back, Fiona. Come back to Cold Mountain...