I'm typing from 31, watching the eternally-glorious ANTM, and it is the highlight of my television week (Read: The only show I watch. Ever. At all.)
I am entirely enthralled with Natasha, the "might-as-well-be-a-mail-order-bride." And, of course, only because she makes me cry with laughter.
I'm so distracted. Too distracted to type or write anything of consequence.
I miss Michael so very much.
I need to find a way for him to be in my life.
Here's to finding out how to do that.
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