Fiddlesticks.
I have been trying to get into my email all damned morning and I, apparently, cannot. Such are the vagaries of electronic communication.
As such, I have decided to use this as a means of communication to tell/ask the following people a few things:
Finn/Petit: Hey! Where were you on Saturday? Everything okay? You missed my PVC-backed, red plaid spankypants and the debut of my "Fuck The Pain Away" sleeveless Peaches t-shirt and my attempt to look like a rockstar and/or groupie and/or Chelsea boy. It ended up being one of those delicious until-5-a.m. kind of parties, full of Israeli girls, bourbon, and M&Ms.
Shiv: I miss you and want to you be in Not Texas right now. You missed a tremendous evening last night that stands out as one of the best I have ever had -- Shabu Shabu for dinner, and then saw Spirited Away, and then off to a sake bar that is clearly one of the most incredible places in the New York, seeing as how it is, in fact, a ripple in the space/time continuum that drops one directly into a little underground bar in Japan. We will be making repeat appearances, fear not.
Freyja: Didja get it yet? Didja get it yet?
Blueapple: Are your legs tired? 'Cause you were running through my dreams all night. I mean, really. I had a dream with you in it. Running.
Everyone: What do I want to eat for lunch?
p.s. Have you all noticed that now I have gone to another new color? Hurrah for hexcode!