Buggery Bollocksy Bunk.

I’m unimpressed with the universe just right now.

Family issues ongoing. I don’t have a vocabulary nasty enough for the emotions I am feeling. Me, without the right word? Hell, at least that’s new.

Also, why would my father feel the need to inform me that he is having regular sex? I am impressed enough with his sailing and hiking about and low-fat-lifestyle that I am no longer concerned about his heart. I don’t need to know about his sex life. It’s like when I found his stash of old people porn while looking for the Jeeves and Wooster tape. Urk.

And then today, our belly dancing teacher has sent an email saying she’s not continuing classes. It’s too far for her to commute. So Rachel and I need to find a new teacher, but I don’t like the other teachers. I want MY teacher. (Am I five years old? Maybe.)

And then there’s Christmas. I’m already worried. And that worries me.

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