Thanks for visiting. I'm a recent transplant to the Boston Massachusetts area, living with my boyfriend while he completes his MBA. I'm originally from Utah, I like Apple, FileMaker, writing about my feelings, and eating edamame.
SML and I fought earlier this week about gun laws. That’s the closest subject I could relate the argument to because I’m not totally certain what it was about. I imagine it has more to do with how I overreact and pretend to have horns on the top of my head than it has to do with guns, but saying “guns” is more flattering. Yes. Guns it is.
We got over the fight soon enough, but not until the next day when I felt exhausted and dry of affection that there was nothing left to do but make-up. I spent the entire day following the fight worrying that I was an ass and feeling like I should make it up to SML by flushing my entire head down a toilet.
On Wednesday night when SML farted on my head; wait, let me get this point very clear: When SML stood up on my couch and sat on my head and farted I thought, “Wow. This is so much better than flushing my head down a toilet.”