Okay, just so you all know I know, the ending dialogue for Standing Separate Leg Head to Knee is *not* "Well . . . you -- you all look pretty good, so come on up." Fun, but not precise. I'd blame it on sleep deprivation, but since everybody else was similarly deprived and yet managed to get through the lines without trouble, I think I have to fall back on the standard, Stoopidity.
All I want for Christmas: all I want is to have Dom (salaam!) show up to wherever I am, and calmly intone, "Tonight . . . FREE." Oh, and socks.
Halfway Wednesday? You're serious? I already know this is a one-of-a-kind experience, and I'm definitely going to miss most of these people desperately. I don't even want to think about saying goodbye to them. Are you sure about the halfway thing? Didn't I mention I gooned last night's clinic? Could I be kept in detention for another month or so with all 373 of my new friends?
Then again, I *do* miss my horribule dogs quite badly, as befits a middle-aged single lady on Vancouver Island stereotype. Okay, then, all 373 of you have to come back to the hobby farm with me, that's all. Come and milk a goat or two while rehearsing your dialogue!
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