I Got a P!

I just twisted my apple stem [I told you I do it every time] and I got to P!

A P for PATHETIC !!

I told you guys. My fate is sealed.

Maybe I'm wrong. Maybe I'll be strolling through the park, one day soon, in the perfect fall weather, and I'll meet a dashing young lad named Peter. Peter will be British, with dark hair and piercing blue eyes. He'll say [please read in an appropriate British accent], "Why, hello. I'm Peter, and I do say you look heavenly. In fact, your divine beauty just inspired me to write a song." And then two men in tuxedos will appear out of nowhere, rolling a grand piano. He'll sit down and play and sing the most marvelous melody to ever fall upon my ears. Birds & butterflies will flutter about, seemingly dancing to the glorious music. It will be love at first sight.









We will take a carriage ride through the park, straight to the nearest Thai restaurant. As we eat I will discover that he is hilarious-- I won't even be able to finish my food because I'll be laughing too hard at his wit and charm. He will tell me all about his world travels and invite me on his next around the world vacation extravaganza.













Bah. Mushy stuff. Blecchh. Who am I kidding? I just need to find a nice guy who loves (and preferably plays) music, is funny & intelligent, speaks Dumb & Dumber, eats Thai & Indian food, and will lay in bed and watch football with me all day on Sundays (preferably a 49er fan).

Is that really too much to ask?