A few reminders...
...Have you guys seen the Diaryland Snack Pack that Andrew is offering? 2000 banner ad views for $1.99 - you should totally get that while it's hot, poppets. It's a deal and a half.
...Remember my survey? Know how to get there? Right, grab a pen, I'll give you directions. If you saunter past the front foyer, and up the stairs, you can go left into the west wing of the house. There, you're going to pass a little curtained alcove that I like to call Taylor's Happy Place. My butler tends to hang out there a lot. Anyway, past Taylor's Happy Place, there's the Guest Book Room. Right, you're gonna go past that (although you're more than welcome to drop in there, too), and there you're going to find a stairway going down. Take the stairs, and stop at the first room on the left. That's my Profile Chamber. You're going to go in there. It's a little unfinished right now, and you're going to find a lot of young, tanned, muscled contractors walking around. They may be naked, but don't worry about that. I had it put into their contract, so you don't have to worry about their putting clothes on. No fear of that. Anyway, they're there 'cause I'm having an Indoor Island Resort Room installed, see? Only thing is, the pool bar isn't up and functioning yet, so unfortunately, I can't offer you a pina colada. But the rest of the place works, so what you're going to do then is take the waterslide down to the second level. There's a little hot tub at the bottom, with a stack of towels next to it, all embroidered with Mare-Ingenii's Surveys. Feel free to have a little hot tub session, and grab a towel on your way out....
See what fun you can have when you don't feel like linking?
... JournalCon. I'm going. Are you? You really should, you know. I'll probably end up making out with you at some point, but that totally shouldn't stop you from registering.
* * *
Right, so I broke my toe last night. I hate that there's nothing you can do about a broken toe. You just have to bind it and hope it gets better soon. No doctors, No x-rays. Nothing to make you feel better in the face of the pain. And, those little suckers just aren't made of much, are they? I can't even tell you the amount of times I've snapped one of them, thus giving it the appearance of a rather over-ripe grape. Man, I would totally scream 'shoddy workmanship' if it didn't potentially buy me a ticket into hell.
Anyway, there I was, walking barefoot around my kitchen, clearing the place up after dinner. (The Butler couldn't be found. Damn Taydo.) But I don't mind, really, because I'm happy, see? And what does your Mare do when she's happy, poppets? That's right. She sings. Badly, but she does sing. She closes her eyes, and opens her heart, and wails into the wooden spoon in her hand.
"It's a little bit funny... this feeling insiiiide... OW DAMMIT!"
Yeah, the closing my eyes part? A bad idea, poppets, because I totally missed one of the major appliances, and slammed my naked baby toe into the fridge. Now? Toe? Grape. Yeah.
And there you have it, my beauties. Another day in the life of Mare-Ingenii, where the delusions are grand, but thankfully, the injuries aren't.
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