My face is erupting like Mt. St. Helens...to borrow a phrase from 8 Simple Rules For Dating My Teenage Daughter, it's somewhat like an oil spill without the dead pelicans. Yeah. Not pretty. Of course, it could also be the 90+ degree weather that this confounded city has that is sending my makeup in a desperate flee for my pores. This city hates me. *sigh*
Sorry, this is all you're getting tonight, I'm exhausted. And my phone is set to go off at seven tomorrow morning---as much I adore listening to Gerry sing to me, that's an awful, ungodly hour... Night, people!!!
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