The Deal With Baths

Okay, folks, I apologize for my blank mishap with my last post. I got this new google docs app, and it said I could edit and delete posts. To see if that worked, I made that. Then there are two options: one, I'm a fucking moron because I couldn't find out how and I'm too proud to click the question mark, or, two, they're fucking idiots.
That's right, it's the latter.

Right now, Jaccob and I are watching Dr. No. River is in my lap, curled up and sleeping. It's awkward trying to type over her.

So I thought of a new story idea one night, just on the edge of sleep. I think I startled Jaccob when I said, "I just thought of it!" But that was what I intended.
I told him and now he wants to join me.
I like writing sci-fi horror and that's basically what he reads/watches. So whenever I go over those parts, he broadens my ideas to a spectacular level.
So, I told him when we do write it, I'm going to dedicate it to him with, "To Jaccob, my personified imagination."

Okay, I have some unruly obsession with making out lists of the pros and cons of baths and showers.
Surprisingly, they come out about equal.
However, I am a bath girl. I fucking love soaking in some soapy, used (from me) water. I also like to usually smoke a little, but that's neither here nor there. I really miss huge tubs. They're rare in my tiny world, but well appreciated. See, baths, to me, hold some kind of resolution of innate calmness.
Downsides, you're in your own filth. And if you have to shave your pits or something, you kind of marinate with the hairs until you're finished and well saturated with raisin fingers. Plus rinsing hair, especially conditioner, is particularly aggravating.

I have luck. I was at my mother's so when I came in, did my bragging, I put it in the front pocket of my mom's purse. Later on she texted me with, "You forgot your clover."
I replied, "No, I didn't. Have good luck, Mom."
BAM. Sweetest daughter ever.

I bought Street Fighter Monopoly for Jaccob. I kicked his fucking ass. He forfeited because he was in such bad shape financially.

Ha, just brought this in and didn't ask no one's opinion too. I fucking love this shower curtain.

I think this picture accurately describes our relationship.

I went to the book festival Saturday with my sister. Talked to the reoccurring authors, met some new cool ones. Especially this little old man. He was so sweet. My sister and I bought a book apiece. Saw my Intermediate Fiction Professor. And I saw her husband, who I'm going to have to take the semester after next.
We met Amanda's future self with the big southern hat, and the old style southern dress. Make-up right on the spot and everything. Very ladylike. Even wrote a book about flowers being in desserts. 

Jaccob fell asleep and the dog is dream-twitching. I'm in love.
BUT HOW COULD JACCOB SLEEP WITH A POISONOUS SPIDER CRAWLING ALL OVER A HALF-NAKED, SWEATY JAMES BOND.

I have one more entry to make.
Alas, I forgot my material for it. So I might have to wait until I can remember all that I wanted to say. Sorry guys, I know I'm not so much dedicated anymore.
River takes up my spare time and I love to have her to.

Night, folks.