1. where do I forward my mail if I'm a homeless bum who nevertheless wants to pay her bills? (Isn't that just what I get for maintaining this facade of respectability. Huh.)
2. who's going to host my website if I cancel my cable service? (Suppose I can put it on streamload. Hmm.) For that matter, will I have to get some kind of web mail thingy? Rats.
3. how do I go through toll booths when my driver's side window won't roll down? You may laugh, and shut up, but this is an actual consideration. What, do I have to fling my change through the passenger window? How do I do this without crashing into the toll booth itself and covering the highway with pennies and dimes? I suppose I could practice. This is me, driving down the street here in Albuquerque, randomly throwing coins out my back window... yeah! That might work.
4. how come Alien 3 & 4 were SO BAD when Alien and Aliens rocked so hard? I've decided that the last two movies in that series were just the bad dreams Ripley had in cold sleep on the way home. Ripley was my role model growing up, y'all. Still is. In fact, I may or may not have contemplated writing a fanfic about Newt all grown up, because you know Hicks and Ripley had to become salvagers or something after they got back, and no doubt Newt learned everything about EVERYTHING from them, and what happens when she's flying an underground run of some kind and runs up against some aliens that the company's protecting, she'd have to consult with her mom and dad, wouldn't she... but, no. Where's the sparkly boy sex in all of that?
Unless someone wants to write me an nsync-in-outer-space au? No? Dammit.
(Yes, it *is* tempting to watch all my dvds as I'm pricing them for the garage sale. How perceptive of you!)
5. have rewritten the 100 ways to end happily, thus ensuring my survival through the beta process. :)
6. a carload-plus-cartop-carrier is not much, y'all. I'm realizing that. But it's amazing how much I'm going to probably make off my garage sale. In fact, this is the garage sale of my dreams, the garage sale I ironically always wanted to find, the garage sale where nothing sucks or is made of scratched plastic, HUNDREDS of books and cds, cool clothes, depression glass, funky furniture... hopefully I can be on the receiving rather than donating end of one just like it when I get to Florida.
7. the only cd I'm not ripping to sell is Schizophrenic, because I'm a sap. Hee!
Christopher's really, really gonna get you back. You know that, right?
all my love,