I Want To Go To There.

It’s FOR SALE!!!

The Beach House

PleasePleasePleasePleasePlease??? Can we have it? We could have bake sales! We could all pitch in! OH COME ON!!!! What’s 9 million dollars between friends?

Tis a day of Firsts.

First day of bad weather tv in Oklahoma. And my channel’s weatherman is wearing a bedazzled red tie. I shit you not. We aren’t getting squat. Lynn and I were already on point. But it’s all east of us. Flop. We need rain so badly…my back yard is cracked plum to China.

First Kill.

Got home to a big ole pile of feathers on the floor…trailed down the hall and into the kitchen…IT WAS STILL IN THE KITCHEN!

shitshitshitshitshitdamnhell.

I did my routine. Close all doors. Opened front door. Turn off all ceiling fans. At which point, said bird jumped onto the kitchen fan and jumped from blade to blade. Then jumped on top of the fridge. Then after I opened the back door and the garage door, it flew into the hall and finally out the front door. GAH.

Dyson Vacuum, I LOVE YOU.

I’m reading the Shirley MacLaine book…and it’s interesting her chapters about synchronicity and energy. Totally parallel the chapters in The Celestine Prophecy. I like it.

I’m going to grill some chicken. And count my pennies. I want that beach house goddangit.

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3 Responses to I Want To Go To There.

  1. Kizz says:

    Just look at all the porches…

  2. Misti says:

    I’m not even kidding.
    Here’s my wish for the Universe tonight.
    A week’s vacay at The Beach House. Just our closest friends. . . and THEN we’ll figure out how to buy the sumbitch!!!
    Ohhhh I want to have it for my own.

    and yes. I realize it doesn’t come with my own Dylan McKay.
    dangit.

  3. Cindy says:

    If I win the lottery, I’ll buy you that beach house. We can all live in it hippie-commune style.

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