Sigh, stuff, stuff, stuff.

Yesterday was tough, I was exhausted all day, tired of dealing with bullshit and aggressive real estate agents, a.k.a., this decade’s used-car salespeople. I swear, after a few minutes of yapping, their words seem to morph into unintelligible barking noises. One bitch in particular is quite the ugly hound, I always feel like I need some kind of shot after dealing with her, make sure I don’t catch anything nasty.

Thursday night, however, was a fucking BLAST. We got dressed up (after a day of shopping for fun clothes in Fashion Valley) and went to the Visual Underground, held at the Whistlestop. Amy’s paintings looked amazing hanging on the wall and the short films were all great, from hysterically funny to thought-provoking tongue-in-cheek. Last Thursday of every month? I think I’ll put this event on “repeat” in my calendar.