my little buttercup has the sweetest smile

I had something really, really important to say. In my heart I did. But it is gone now. Gone like so many other very-important things that must not have been all that important if we are all still alive and well without them.

Today is Abraham Lincoln's birthday. Charles Darwin's as well. They were born on the same day. I wonder if they are cosmically connected, then. Do they hang out in heaven? Do they prank Robert E. Lee? Put his fancy General's sword in jello? Wait. I don't think they have jello in heaven, it's gross. No one actually likes jello. Not even Jesus.

I think I was supposed to notice and be excited that Laura and Mom now have matching bikes. She said, did you see, did you see? And I, playing the petulant daughter, said, "Yeah. It's a bike," like it was the least interesting thing I had ever heard in the entire world. I'll have to fix it tomorrow. "Wow, Mom. That's so cool that Laura bought you guys bikes (I know Mom didn't buy them or even one of them because she's totally broke right now) and now you can ride around together like the giant homos that you are."

I just suspended blog writing to go have an 11pm Cobb salad at Village Inn with Kate and Emily. It was great. We talked about boys. And stupid girl drama. And the inevitable robot uprising.

Here is a picture I took with my phone:


I call it "Washrags with I Voted Sticker." It is possibly one of my greatest works.

Also, here is one of Andrea, Dave and the cat all passed out on the new couch.


I might go to bed now. Goodnight.