8 de junio del 2001

You totally made it up to me (because in my mind and in my world you're writing just for me! Yeah! See how that works? No, not a freak, just very, very imaginative) with this entry.

So what horrible thing did Pamie do to have to make it up to me?

She bashed Moulin Rouge.

I know, I know! You're as upset as me, aren't you? That's okay, though. Don't worry your pretty little head. Go read Play On, The Food of Love and you'll totally mellow out, as I have, and fall in love with Squishy once again. I *love* that entry. I love it almost as much as I love Moulin Rouge.

And that's it for today, folks. I gave y'all something wonderful to read, though not mine, so that should make it even more wonderful.

The sun is finally out in Chicago (for a few weeks now we were actually living in the midwest's version of Seattle/London...yuck! Not that Seattle or London is yucky, it's just that the constant drizzle, fog and cold made us all grumpy, lumpy and old. Yeah, had to rhyme that out. Shuddup.) so I'm gonna hurry up and finish my work so I can leave this place early. Yay! Mr. Sunshine here I come.

In other news: Party @ my house next weekend. Wanna come? Let me know!

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