n'est pas

"It's too late, to fall in love with Sharon Tate." -Jim Carroll

Today I am wearing a vintage dress given to me by a friend. Though I'm not sure where she acquired it, I'm pretty sure someone made it from a curtain. Or material one would normally use too cover a couch, or lounge chair. I'm feeling rather like furniture.
And like I should be begging Clark Gable for money.

My unsubstantiated fear of flesh-eating viruses is back, thanks to 24. My coworker thought it would be a good last-day prank to release a flesh-eating virus into the ventilation system. I said no, a better one would be to actually move into the ventilation system in the ceiling, and then five years later jump down into your boss's office (castaway beard in full effect) and say "ha, joke's on you- I've been here the entire time!"

Last night I had a dream about doing ballet (en pointe- yes, I used to do such in real life) and when I woke up my feet were hurting.

This weekend I'm going to St. Simon's Island to stay at my friend's beach house. So I probably won't be blogging, which is a good thing judging from last Sunday's nonsense.

to hot wok!