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There’s one good line in this whole damn thing.* **

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We’re leaving in the morning for Pennsylvania, and I almost decided to just not write this post at all, because we are entering the fail now or fail later portion of NaBloPoMo – I will be travelling all day tomorrow with a toddler who saw that I was almost completely packed WELL ahead of schedule (I am a stay up all night the night before type, without fail, since the first time I flew, ever) and decided to spring a fever (of course she decided, I have met her and you have not, so I know), so the chances of me actually posting tomorrow night are pretty slim, and even if I do, then I am facing the entire rest of the month with the crappy equipment of the – oh, God, I know exactly how I am about to sound – stupid Android phone that will only let me upload pictures via email to Flickr which will then post all oddly and weird and I don’t even use email on the phone because it is stupid and I hate it and don’t even have that Flickr contact in the phone and I also hate stupid Flickr; or the iPad which doesn’t let me put in pictures and has a stupid keyboard that sometimes vanishes because my BOOBS touch it and they’re not even WARM boobs, being so large that nerves and blood vessels long since parked their Conestogas and settled in the DeSmets of the Breasts, and it’s not very kind about where it lets me select words; or the old MacBook Pro, which heats up like I imagine tiny breasts might and has a battery life of approximately 12 minutes.

Anyway, oddly, I persevere.

A RIDDLE!

Q: What do you do when your weekly weigh ins are going well, but you’re going out of town for a month?

A:

Now we’re free to see the world!

Also, we’re going to be gone for a month, and that’s a long time. I know my parents appreciate it a whole lot, and I know Phil is going to miss us, some of us more than others. I also know that he is going to appreciate the absence of some of us who never throw anything away. Actually, both of us don’t throw anything away, but one of us isn’t allowed to touch the trash can/go outside alone. Actually, neither of us gets to go outside alone.

I just thought I’d leave this here for Phil to find when he gets a spare moment of downtime at work on Friday, after we’re gone.

* One of the bonuses of dropping the ridiculous BlogHer ads, besides not getting checks every month, because I totally hated that part, was that I could start cursing in my post titles, and I realized I haven’t been taking advantage of that at all. Ball sack.

** A more sophisticated blogger would probably try to pretend like she didn’t know where her good lines were and play it off like she doesn’t laugh at her own jokes. There’s no more to this asterisk line.


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