I have built an outfit that pleases me to a ridiculous degree. My saucy self straightened my hair and prepared to go Be Hip at a coffee shop working on sketches while Bu played on his laptop, after a NOM of a Mexican meal.
We got a message on Bu's phone, in a squeaky tinkly voice: DaddymamaIwancomehome. Iwuvyou. Icancomehome?BAI.
So we bailed, and I explained to the Buddha that somebody had to witness my favorite dress-with-jeans look. So fucking what if it's so 1992. I rocked it, and now I'm stripping down to some ugly jammies and watching Monsters, Inc. with mah Bu and mah Boo.