I still want a Vespa. I thought, like many things I want and get, that it was merely an impulse. But here I am, almost a year later, still pining after the shiny red steel. It was going to be a gift to myself when I graduated, but I dropped out of school a second time, never to need that degree in Business Fucking Management again (though the classes have helped my organizational skills immensely, and those skills are transferable, baby).

Anyway, point is, my impulses are accurate. But I usually just get the things, already! Only now, responsibility dictates that I must wait. We've got to come up with, oh, like another shitload of money before we close on the new place. I can't go buying myself a Vespa when that money could go towards our new place. The downsides of growing up -- choosing practicality over fantasy. At least in most cases, I get to have both.

Speaking of fantasy, M.s. has been adorable lately, eager to please, just the way I like him. He's been helpful and supportive about my exploits this evening, which you'll read about later. I'm looking forward to a night with Spider Monkey, Luna, and Jacqueline, and all we have in store for us. Which reminds me, I need to select some fine wine for the occasion.

My sweet Vespa has waited this long, she can hold out until we move into the Egyptian. I'll have a garage to store her in, and I'll know where the finances stand. It couldn't hurt to get my permit, though. Hee hee hee.

-Barbarella

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