Gratitude

Truth Doesn't Make a Noise, White Stripes.

Hey, lanky.

To cut to the chase, thank you. For continuing to be wonderful when I insist on being awkward and volatile and indecisive and spiteful and annoying and every other adjective that describes me when I'm in a bad mood.

You're funny and understanding and patient and sweet and easy company and relaxing and therapeutic and wonderful to vent one's frustrations onto and horrific in the kitchen, but that doesn't matter. There's nothing more I can say without getting sentimental - but thank you. You're a wonderful friend and I'm lucky to consider you one.

If life was a muffin you'd be the chocolate chips that make it better than the rest.

I got my results today...

I know I said several weeks ago that I'd film myself opening them - and in all fairness, I did mean to. It's probably a good thing I didn't anyway, because it would have just been a video of my extended period of nervous self-chatter and procrastination, followed by several attempts at opening the envelope, followed by half a second of frenzied paper-ripping, followed by five minutes of panicked "What is this? What does any of this mean?" followed by the moment of realisation, followed by half an hour of hysterical sobbing. It didn't make for good watching material. 

Didn't do too well, if it wasn't obvious.

Still. Band practice was good.

Quote of the Day: Well, it's 10 years from teenage and that's a freaking lot. I think I'm getting old. [Not on Top, Herman Dune. {Fun fact - Hermann, my sexy-ass acoustic, is named after this dude.}]