flannel pj's 4eva

I made it to my parents' house safe and sound. And, of course, sick as a dog. I will blame my hacking cough and inability to speak not on the eight hours of staff partying that transpired in and around E's place of employment on Monday, but on the transit strike, because no one can question blaming the transit strike. Even though it didn't really affect my trip to the airport all that much, except I had to wait outside in the dark and cold at 5:30 a.m. for a bus that I might've taken to get to the airport anyway, and while yes the lines to get through security were an hour and a half long because the security workers couldn't get to work on time, I found a hidden shorter line and only waited 15 minutes. Suckas. Speaking of dogs, here's Babe again. We got her right around my 12th birthday. She's still going strong, despite the nighttime issues.

Wisconsin - Where Dogs Actually Need To Wear Sweaters


Her Favorite Spot


Shouldn't This Be A Pop Art Painting, Or Something?


Jealousy!


And One Of Daisy Louise, Just To Be Fair