Bright striped socks; microfiber leggings. Not quite pants. I'm looking for a method of forgetting about pants and keeping my legs warm in shorts. I got some one-size mustard-color leggings, and managed to tug them all the way on. With sexxy thigh-high socks over top, the insulating quality was still not the same as cheap pants - but I did enjoy a quick return to faded black shorts. This climate is the pits.
It was Mike's surprise party. His 30th birthday is happening in a couple days. His girlfriend went all-out, and a shindig ensued. A bunch of good people who I like were there. I showed up about hungry enough to punch a horse in the mouth. Fortunately, it was only about an hour or so until Mike showed up, and after he was sufficiently surprised, I was able to start picking stuff off of a huge table of options.
I'm not getting drunk anymore, but I'm still sometimes talking about not drinking, and I did manage to dance in a very minor way. Beyond survival. I'm clasping the thin edge of surthrival, and I can picture myself doing even better soon.
Back home, we got a new roommate. More people is more traffic, and that's one step further from living in a secret pile of dirt surrounded by trees. But if you have to cut the rent down, then sometimes you need a roommate, and this guy seems like a reasonably safe choice. He's clean. He's nice. He has money.