i didn't want to wake up this morning. i didn't want to come to work. i wanted to sleep in. i'd been up too late tickling jon. he makes the funniest sounds like a child. he squirms and squeals, giggles like a girl. it's the best thing that i could possibly do with him at any given moment. my husband is very ticklish. my husband is a skinny white boy. my husband does most of the cooking but never ever does laundry. my husband is cynical and very intelligent. my husband is working on a history degree and a novel about his youth. he's still very young. my husband is at work at the coffee shop right now, swatting flies, reading the newspaper, and sweating to death. you'd think that he'd lose weight locked up tight in there with all the brewing machines and exhaust from the coolers and freezers and still no air conditioning. then he'd disappear because he's such a skinny white boy. my husband makes up songs about the cats and sings to them as he walks around the house. he sings words about the cats to the tunes of huge pop hits that he's never heard more than a couple of seconds of while flipping through channels on the television. my husband thinks i'm the prettiest girl on the planet. but he still thinks the bagel girl is hot. which i don't mind. last night we saw an ad for a movie with "the cute guy" in it and i went ga-ga, so we're even.
so someone made me blog of the day for 08.26.01.