
First of all I give an apology to those who were promised daily updates...that didn't go well.
So, tennis lessons have been ruined for me taking with them my unbridled dreams of WASPy perfection...Why don't men understand that when you don't respond to ANYTHING they say, it means I DON'T LIKE YOU. IN FACT, YOU MAKE ME ALMOST THROW UP IN MY MOUTH. I even resorted to the eye roll (classic sign of disgust)..eye roll damn it!!! Since when does that not work??? When??
Having the relationship that I do makes me really happy....I got a normal one, be jealous. We like that...its a little twisted(not in a sexual way).
A brief side note: Dolly Parton is amazing...Those tata's don't quit and she's feisty too. Props to Dolly.

OK back to business:
I've been having spacial issues on the T. My beloved Michael Kors purse, that I lovingly refer to as Michael, seems to have a super power. You see, when he is riding the T Michael likes to grow to about three times his actual size and then proceed to bitch slap everyone within a ten foot radius. Can anyone help me find a solution other than "buy and new bag?" because I am just not willing to do this.
Is there some sort of 'Alice in Wonderland' pill that can help Michael to grow and shrink at moments convenient to my public transportation needs?
Can anyone buy me a car in which Michael could have his own seat?....preferably a mini-cooper?

yes, I am aware that the title of this post is not relevant at all.