Look, I don't know how it happened, but I've become so involved with the three finalists on American Idol, that I will be upset regardless of who does or doesn't win. Hell, Rueben hitting the bottom two a couple of weeks ago had me in fit of the vapours.
I wasn't really involved with Survivor, except for some passing amusement at my brother's hero-worship of Christy. Regardless, when that spoiled ball of ickiness that they call Jenna won the million smackers, I was distressed. Mucho distressed. I mean, really... what with Jenna winning, and Rueben in the bottom two for a few minutes, and that whole Dubya thing... I'm starting to become agitated by American voting practices here, people! And I'm Canadian! (Oh all right. I'm not sure what being Canadian has to say about all of this, except for showing some mild displeasure at NOT being able to vote for Mr.205. Or Clay. Or Kimberley. See? I love them all!)
On a vaguely related note, can someone lead me in the right direction so that I may procure the lyrics to that song that Rueben sang last night? 'Smile', I think it's called. It's a fun song to hum, but I wanna know the words behind the melody, and I can't find it anywhere? So, please? I'd love you forever and ever. You know I would.
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So, things are really and truly happening with the Canadian branch of the optical business that Jamie is starting out. I had to send off the first two orders today, from the mother-load of a stock that was shipped to me last week. Ok, check this out. Is it not totally ironic that I get laser surgery a year and a half ago, I don't need glasses or contacts anymore, and now I have a whole collection of some of the funkiest frames in the world in my living room? Really, life is so weird sometimes.
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Still waiting for the love of my life to show up. It's the 14th of May, Mr. Lance Romance. Where are you, already? Oh, I don't know how I got this maggot into my head. I really have to stop paying attention to the stars, and the people that read them. Wait, wait! Maybe it's one of you guys! Huh? Huh? It could happen! Or maybe it's a six-degree of separation thing. Maybe you know someone who knows someone who would be perfect for me... which leads me to believe that I may end up marrying Kevin Bacon.
Right. Back to my afternoon I go. Love you, poppets. Especially if you show up at my door singing Smile and carrying flowers.
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