You can't watch your own image and also look yourself in the eye
The internet this morning has graciously conceded to run a little faster than frozen sugar, so before we head out for the Magic Kingdom and Hollywood Studios, I can at least post two of the pictures I really wanted to include last night, to demonstrate that our time at Epcot was not all angst or teppanyaki. As a pair of portraits, besides, I consider them adorable.





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(That is so a word.)
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Nine
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My mother gave it to him as a Hanukkah present, replacing a prior shirt of the same design that had met the fate of many well-beloved T-shirts before it. She sent that and the new Kim Newman wrapped in silver paper in my luggage, along with a holiday card. I have told her both were properly appreciated, and not just by their recipients.
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We are both photo-shy. I think this set-up occurred to us simultaneously.
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Hee. Thank you!
(It is.)
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Yay.
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Heh. Mine is the Alan Turing word cloud. They seemed like appropriate selections for Epcot, which we remembered as full of science. Even if that is no longer as much the case as it might be, they were the right shirts.
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Thank you.
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It was free internet. I still think its intermittent inconvenience was better than the hotel internet in D.C., which we couldn't afford.
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Thank you!
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This was one of the things I noticed about him in January, the very first time we met for lunch at Christopher's and talked afterward at Porter Square Books for hours. I have shared your opinion with him.
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This is a myth: and they divided up the sky between them, one of them wearing the stars of the east and the other of the west, never sharing the same sky except once, and that is another story.
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Definitely. To my mind, non-free hotel internet is only slightly more forgiveable than pay toilets on airplanes.
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