I am going to SUCH a busy camper these next few days. Look:
Tuesday Day: Sent off short story to CW professor for contest entry –> ACCOMPLISHED
Tuesday Eve: Dinner with lovely friend and family –> ACCOMPLISHED, YUM.
Wednesday Morning: Drive to freaking Austin to retrieve my damn credit card –> ACCOMPLISHED
Wednesday Afternoon: Go to campus in San Marcos & deliver Financial Aid audit paperwork. Also? Must register for Fall classes because I am an ijit and didn’t do so during regular registering hours, ferfuckssakes.
Wednesday Night: BFF Sleepover, now with packing help for various things
Thursday Night: Yoga with Mister Man and then home, packing for our various things
Friday Morn: (gawd awful o’clock) drop Mister Man at the airport, come home, and wake up The Girl for school. Finish packing costumes, whips, and toiletries.
Friday Night: Drop off Girl with her Dad, go visit Lance and Rob in Austin for Fearless Gaming/Writing Discussions
Saturday Morn: (gawd awful o’clock, again) Drive to Houston for …
Sat – Sunday: Comicpalooza (see handy attached link)
Sunday Night: Late drive home and collapse
Monday Morn: Drop off merch with BFF
Monday Afternoon: Chaperone young teens on a zombie video game hootenanny in what is NOT a date, dammit
Monday Night: Collapse into small pile
I am going to be so sleep deprived come Monday that all my conversation will consist of muttered movie quotes and startled snorts.
If y’all are at the Con, do come by the dealer’s room and say hi. If you bring coffee, you will be counted as a God amongst mortals and there might be active cheering.
The Process 
The not-a-date phase. Stressful one, that.
On the plus side, Friday will be pretty F’n stellar.
The not-a-date phase. Stressful one, that.
Dear gods and little fishes. And she won’t even let me make up a screwball nickname* for him, which is just MEAN of her.
* – I called the last one (a girlfriend) “TaraWeenie” because … well, mostly because it made her eyes bug out a bit.
In thinking on it, *I* might actually be the mean one.
It’s hard to not be mean towards the person who is making our “babies” grow up, even if we know on a rational level that the growing up will happen regardless of our meanitude. The girl is a wonderful child and you’ve raised her well. She’ll do fine. And if she brings home a truly rotten romantic interest, pull out the most gross and embarassing stories you can. It works.
I’m afraid I’ll never understand the propensity among the ‘tween crowd to pretend they have no interest in dating. They almost seem to regard it as a badge of shame.
Add to it their propensity to not want to take time to actually shower/use soap. Granted, The Girl is getting better. But, there was a time that we despaired of her not smelling like three-day old dead goat.
Oh my word, seriously? But…but…she’s a LEO! Tell her she’d best get on top of the whole primping thing or she could have her membership card revoked. >.>
Also, I refuse to teach her the secret handshake until she does, by Gumby.
Although you do realise that in a few short years, you’ll find yourself despairing of ever getting her to _leave_ the bathroom when planning a social outing, right? 😉