In which some things rock and some things suck
Rock: Fruity Cheerios. Like Froot Loops, but better for you. Like Trix, but not nauseatingly sweet. SO GOOD.
Suck: Getting fanged in the finger when a cute game of cat-in-the-grocery-sack goes a little too far. To make it worse, it was really really cute and funny until the moment he bit me through the paper sack.
Rock: Mr. Kitters, because it wasn't his fault, and who could stay mad at this?
Rock: In 14 days, we're leaving for Seattle. In 16 days, we'll be here:
In 21 days, we might be here:
Suck: In 14 days, we're leaving. OMG. Need suitcases! Packing list! E-tickets! Raincoat for MB! Nice clothes for wedding! Hiking boots that won't give MB blisters the size of my pinkie toe, like he got when we hiked Wesser Bald in July! Ack! Ack! ACCKK!
Rock: In 16 days, this could be us:
Rock the hell on.
Edited to add: In general our new upstairs neighbor is a vast improvement over the somewhat loud & trashy chick who lived there before. But who the fuck does building improvements on their balcony with a hammer and nails at 12:30 in the goddamn morning? Obviously we're not asleep...but what if we were? I'm pretty sure our friend R's two toddlers, who sleep in the room RIGHT NEXT TO Upstairs Neighbor Guy's balcony, are in bed by now. What is wrong with some people? Gah. Also, he really needs to stop dropping his cigarette butts onto our porch. If you're too lazy to flick them far enough to clear the porch below, then stay inside. Asshat. Otherwise he seems like a nice enough guy. But I'm seriously over the cigarette butts.