• Returned to hockey
• Returned to college
• Returned to auditioning
• Returned to not auditioning
• Returned to Blue Lagoon
• Returned to Disney World
• Returned to packing and unpacking
• Returned to car payments
• Returned to Becky 365 times
• Returned to Pittsburgh too few times
• Returned to listmaking
I’ve gone 11 games without a goal this season. This bothers me to no fixed end.
The best part was when Tom Hanks did some calculus and five mission controllers checked his arithmetic with slide rules.
Becky’s just discovered it and it’s in constant play on our Netflix. My dreams have turned to the nightmares that nightmares have. Coincidence?
The day when temporary staff across the country debate which psuedo-ironic-sexy costume-in-a-bags are worth putting in storage, and which ones get shipped off to dollar stores and outlet malls.
I cut my hair last night. In my first game since the haircut, my team won (undefeated streak intact) and I picked up an assist (point drought over). Still getting mistaken for a girl at bars, though.
