...Yes we're going to a party party/Yes we're going to a party party/I would like you to dance/Take a cha-cha-cha-chance....
The sun breaks open on a day that is fresh-washed, smut of sultry sluiced away by last night's heady storm.
An offer of breakfast this morning: "What would you like?"
"Whatever you give me."
"That's the best answer."
Yes.
I can call him today, because I have an excuse. I need an excuse to call him because he won't talk to me without one. That's okay, I don't mind. I'd do more for him, and less.
Whatever works, which, frankly, (pardon the pun), isn't much.
I will wear yellow today, because I wear color a couple of times a year, just to freak out my friends.
Today I have my annual manicure/pedicure combination. Coco's coming with me, to make it a "girl thing."
Since it is beautifully sunny, there is every possibility that post-pedicure, I'll toast poolside. In my yellow bikini.
(From last night: Since I'm not wearing a bra, matching my panties to it is not an issue. I choose them instead to match my shoes, the Hooker Barbie heels again. Because they give me an advantage playing pool. They don't make me any better, but do distract my opponent.)
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