Bah. Work. I need coffee, especially if I am to not flat-out choke Vickie today.

I did take a lovely bath last night, though. I scoured the tub and then drew the water nice and warm. I lit candles, flicked off the lights, and added Lush's SinterKlaas bath bomb. It felt good to just soak, to sink beneath the water and just be still. I wish I could've held onto that serenity, but alas, it was not to be. It was nice, though-- sweetly scented with oranges and the amber from the candle wax. My skin feels so soft, especially since I rubbed down with Sandalwood Rose smoothing oil afterwards.

I get a massage today. That's exciting. Bridget needs a guinea pig to continue with the experience-getting, and so I'm putty in her hands. Maybe if I get a few kinks worked out of my back, I'll sleep better. Afterwards, we're going swing dancing. I've never swing danced before, so I'll be taking a brief lesson as well. We'll see how it goes, as I have oh, about three left feet.


Okay. I have to go and all that jazz. Later.


ETA: In retrospect, this is the day I met Skyler.

Official Boyfriend Casting

Dear Evan Farmer,

Should something tragic ever befall my love life, please call me. I was watching While You Were Out today, and you were lookin' good in that red shirt. The facial scruff was workin' for me, and your arms kind of turned me to a sad little puddle on the floor. I have a sekrit forearm fetish. It's weird, I know.

But honest, we're perfect for one another. We're both from Baltimore, we're both musicians... we both look good in red... And I gotta say the carpentry and crafts thing turns me on a bit. It's a shame about the constant travelling thing, but it's okay-- there are years before we worry about makin' babies. Hot sex is okay for now.

So-- boyfriend casting in this order:

First preference goes to Evan Farmer.
Second goes to any genetic clones of Evan Farmer.
Third preference goes to people who look freakishly like Evan Farmer.
Fourth preference goes to people who bear a passing resemblance to Evan Farmer.
Last preference (aka-- the Snowball's Chance In Hell Award) goes to people who look like Evan Farmer only when I'm wearing beer goggles.


Love,
Christina





Okay-- dancing now. I'll attend to all other business in the AM.