I have said it before and I will say it again: wearing clothes with dinosaurs on them will help you along the path to social splendor. I can't say why it is, exactly, but people are twice as friendly whenever I'm wearing my dinosaur t-shirt, and I'm thinking of covering my entire wardrobe in prehistoric creatures. Just in case. After all, who doesn't love dinosaurs? No one, that's who.
According to TMS I have been on hiatus long enough, have pretty much cleared out my shopping cart, and am currently just being self-indulgent and hysterical, to which I say, "...and?" But he's sort of got a point, and as a result I'll be taking back the no-touching rule as of when I get back from Florida, and I will stop actively avoiding your fingerprints.
But you're still not coming home with me, Seattle, and we're still keeping room for the holy ghost in between us. I need to figure out how to quit doing everything backwards, how to stop smashing things that I don't want to see broken, before I'm allowed to take any steps in any direction at all. Just because I can leave this corner that I've painted myself into does not mean that I have any idea where I'm going.
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