May 17
Why do people think that it’s ok to bring food into a library? This is a place for studying and reading, not for you to eat your lunch!
If I have to clean soda and pizza sauce off one more Wimpy Kid book I'm going to lose it!
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Why do people think that it’s ok to bring food into a library? This is a place for studying and reading, not for you to eat your lunch!
If I have to clean soda and pizza sauce off one more Wimpy Kid book I'm going to lose it!
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
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Important question.
You're being chased through the woods by a monster. Which fictional character are you choosing to protect you?
There are no wrong answers. Except choosing Shaggy. Because he'd leave you behind and you'd both know it.
You know what my favorite part about seeing fireworks is, whether for the 4th of July or the ones for the carnival? I'll give you a hint, it's not the big booms and bright sparks of color. It's that lead up to them starting, everyone is finding their perfect spot to sit and watch, kids are running around with sparklers and laughing, having the best time. Usually there's either a DJ hired for the event or someone is blaring their own music from their car and there's just this feeling of summer nostalgia that never fails to amaze me. Then that first whistle cuts through the air, followed by the loud crack that kicks everything off, and suddenly everyone is quiet, looking up at the sky in awe. Honestly, I love it.
Alright, so I know it's 2 weeks away, but since I was already working on a couple of commission pieces, I wound up making a whole bunch of new jewelry for the shop and I'm planning on having it out for the sidewalk sale on the 4th of July! Not to mention, I even matched some of the new jewelry to a few clothing pieces I have in stock, so if you come in needing an entire outfit and accessories, I can totally hook you up. And I'm totally okay with selling some before the sidewalk sale, I was just so excited about getting so much done so early that I had to gush about it.
I have an open bag of sour gummy worms on my desk and an absolute refusal to grade these essays until it’s empty. Consider this an open invitation to come distract me, or at least come steal some candy so I’m forced to actually do my job.
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Gods, this weather has been killing me lately. Feel like my entire back just wants me to lay down and not get back up. Need this rain to fuck all the way off.
In other news, it's given me a lot of time to write, so I can't entirely complain, this book of poetry might actually be close enough to being done to be out by the end of the year.
How is everyone else doing?
The thing nobody warned Camile about when she moved back to Ashford Valley was how impossible it was to run errands quickly in a small town.
In New York, she could go weeks without speaking to anyone outside of work. Here, a simple stop for coffee somehow turned into three separate conversations, one unsolicited update about somebody’s cousin’s divorce, and an invitation to a charity fundraiser she was fairly certain she’d accidentally agreed to attend.
Not that she minded. Not entirely.
Mostly.
Standing near the counter with a coffee she’d long since forgotten to drink, Camile glanced down at her phone out of habit before catching herself and slipping it back into her coat pocket. Baby steps, apparently.
At least until someone nearby caught her attention, pulling a small smile from her despite herself. “Please tell me I’m not the only person in town still trying to remember everybody’s name,” she said, dry humor warming her tone. “Because at this point I’m considering making flashcards.”
So, plot twist: an old Broadway director I worked with on The Book of Mormon emailed me because apparently the lead on the national tour for Phantom of the Opera had to step away unexpectedly, and now they want me to come in for a limited run. Which sounds glamorous and exciting until you realize it has led to me sitting at my kitchen table, staring into the abyss of my coffee like it personally offended me. Theatre brain says yes. Who cares if it's living out of a suitcase for the next two months? The rest of me is significantly less sure. I finally built a life here that actually feels stable and good and mine. If anyone needs me, I’ll be overthinking professionally for the foreseeable future.