At Duke Library.

Just saw the COunt of Monte Cristo, and Stephen is wondering where the casting director found all of those wonderful dark-haired boys with the pretty, huge eyes.

He's been driving, which means his husbands have been driving him crazy. We're-all-going-to-die sometimes turns into a self-fulfilling prophesy, if one is in a body that has merely a permit, as she hast no insurance.

Which is just another pain in the tuchus. She has to call Geico or some other recockulous national company that might possibly consider insuring her, and then beg them, if humanly possible, to do it for something less than an arm, a leg, her first born child and half her soul.

Going to go look at Interesting French Things now.

I want a red velvet coat/cloak thing with gold trim. NOW.

<<agé chose>>

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