�Never be haughty to the humble, never be humble to the haughty.� - Jefferson Davis, good ol� southern gentleman. Every time I speak that quote aloud (more often than you may think), I�m tempted to use a southern-belle lilt. So true, so true. My adherence to Mr. Davis�s advice may explain my uncanny ability to get along quite well in just about any crowd. Toot my own horn? I don�t think so. A horn �tooting� doesn�t touch the huge, cacophonous noise I can make when I�m complimenting myself from the inside out. Egotistical? Perhaps. But somehow, it works, and I feel pretty good, so I�m not going to question that one too much. I�ve stopped asking WHY people love me and started to just appreciate being loved and liked. Sigh, good times, good life.
And that happy bubble is as strong as steel, and pops on the rare occasion to only one needle - my permission. Thank you, Mrs. Roosevelt for reminding me of that every time I read your sage quote.
I had a lovely evening, hanging with Pixie, getting to catch up. I know, crazy, we work together for Christ�s sake, and I feel like I haven�t really SPOKEN with the woman in weeks! So we had some wonderful one-on-one, talked all kinds of speculation and perception on our fellow workers, our fellow humans in this town. Then, Cabana Boy made a cameo! Now there�s a boy I haven�t seen in forever! And he looked fabulous, as always.
So, uh, I just remembered it�s a 3-day weekend! Holy shit, what kinda trouble am I gonna get myself into now. Tee hee. All kinds. All fucking kinds. I�m house-sitting for a few days, oh my. I keep getting wonderful and energetic messages from Bunny, having a blast out there. I hope I get to actually catch her next time she calls, I�d love to say thank you for that Valentine�s gift she sent. That, a card from my father, and sharing company with Pixie were my Hearty presents.
Alright, onto this weekend... I wonder if it�s ready for me.
-Barbarella
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