On weather and serendipity:
It's been a fine day for watching Mother Nature go cuckoo von nutsville. From my perch in the sky it has rained, and been sunshiney, and then hailed, and then glorious rainbow (FYI that pot of gold is under the second span of the Bay Bridge, should anyone like to dive for it) and more sunshiney goodness with a certain chance of showers.

But the hail, that was impressive.

My mood has swung with the weather, at first glum. Then I managed to work myself into a lather over the misdeeds of what I thought was my current flirtation. So I went shopping at lunch to assuage poor, poor bruised ego and the sun came out and all was well and right with the world in my new pink sweater.

Back at work it hails, further causing me to (over?) scrutinize misdeeds of flirtation (henceforth known as FLFF) causing me to get my bitch on, and despite the fact that the sun is out and Marin is verdant and gleaming I cannot seem to get my bitch off.

Thank heavens for a restorative cocktail, I mean after work...

FLFF failed to realize that the only thing on my agenda is sex, frequently, please.

helas, helas

On top of that Liz Smith says we are going to be hit with a fireball this summer, Arianna Huffington practically confirms... NTY magazine says that we are all going to live longer. I can hardly wait, a bunch of centarians wondering through a fireball wasteland, trying to out-walker one another to the nearest contaminated water source. (If I knew how to link these things I would, but I only recently mastered changing lightbulbs, so...)

And that's only if our Feckless Leader isn't re-elected, imagine how much worse it could be if he was?