¡Lloro! ¡Lloro!

Not really... although I did drop two stitches in my yoga-wrap swatch and can't seem to find them anywhere. Did you take them?

Also...still waiting on the NY pics. I should be getting a digital camera for my birthday (please note the final entry)

What do I want for my birthday, you ask? Nothing, really. I'd like to hang out with my friends this weekend, and since most of us are poor students or young (read:poor) professionals, I hope that none of you actually think I'm seriously asking for any of these things - except for my brother, because he works so much - too much!! - overtime that he's became a good old Texas aristocrat.

But in the spirit of openness and soul-bearing-ness that blogging so insistently engenders, here's my current "Dream, dream, dream" list:

~~First, the reasonable – sort of. For my rich friends, anyway~~

• Buffy.
  
  
• Music in my ears.
  
  
• For starters. And then, the geek continues with this
  
  
• For the crisping of bread I actually need one – but these people really like toasters.
  
  
• Happiness. Yes, really.
  

~~And now, the dreamable.~~

• Vroooom!
  
  
• Um. Yes, please.
  
  
• And another for my girl, Jenna. He’s all yours, baby.
  

~~and, finally...~~

• Maple Leaf forever!(We can only hope they’re kidding).
  
  
  So, this is what I do when I'm bored. I'd write poetry, but the muse isn't singing to me today.
  
  But! It's cloudy, and rainy, and icky. Or so you might think, unless you are know this lovely little piece. Sure, it's about April, but it's still wonderful:
  
  April Rain Song
  
  Let the rain kiss you
  Let the rain beat upon your head with silver liquid drops
  Let the rain sing you a lullaby
  The rain makes still pools on the sidewalk
  The rain makes running pools in the gutter
  The rain plays a little sleep song on our roof at night
  And I love the rain.
  ~Langston Hughes
  
  
  And then, of course, there's the unmistakable poet of our childhood:
  
  
  Rain
  
  I opened my eyes
  And looked up at the rain,
  And it dripped in my head
  And flowed into my brain,
  And all that I hear as I lie in my bed
  Is the slishity-slosh of the rain in my head.
  
  I step very softly,
  I walk very slow,
  I can't do a handstand--
  I might overflow,
  So pardon the wild crazy thing I just said--
  I'm just not the same since there's rain in my head.
  ~Shel Silverstein
  

Okay. The End. Happy Tuesday!!