i knew that this would be my last weekend on the island. i'm happy to say that it's not, though it's hard to be happy about results of the TCs at this point, as me staying means someone else is going. i think a sign of either a) my impending doom or b) my paranoia is that i have quite a few answers ready for my exit interview.

too bad the interviewer hates me. i'm not all that particular on him, either. i suppose mutual is the best way. i like how the interviews with loud and scud were all nasty i'm-gonna-get-you-suckah yet with ginger and magpie were all will-you-have-my-love-child. we'll see with chrome if the love fest continues. i think i'd prefer the obnoxious banter to the boob talk as that way i can be all kinds of nasty right back.

i like being nasty. filthy mcnasty to be exact.

in other news: i slept like the dead (if you exclude the whole waking up part) this weekend. damn was that needed. and i felt no guilt at all about sticking my love with a hyper and butt-sore baby for the hours in which i coma-ed.

this might or might not be coincidence, but when i get a lot of sleep, my hair gets out of control. it's wild, frizzy, and kinkly-curly right now. if i had gotten no sleep, it'd be smooth and wavy. any science-minds out there wanna explain this to me?

i also washed pluck's hair with real baby shampoo last night for the first time. you should've seen those gorgeous auburn curls! he kinda looked like a princess when i made a flower bun on his head with baby shampoo suds. i've been accused of pretending too often that my Pluck-Pluck is a girl, but hey! i totally believe in biology and hard coding. if my baby grows up to be a cross dressing homosexual it'll be cause a) it makes him happy and b) he feels free and safe to do so. soap sud flower buns do not a homosexual make. at least he won't be a crazy misogynistic repressed asswhole who conducts himself with idiocy to please the masses.