Glory Gale of the North, living in Armenian Glendale, proprietor of nice things and adoring of one boy from the Bay. Obedient worker of television and obsessively infatuated with night-timing and lounge performers.
I woke up at 8:37. (!!!) Like a crazy person I threw on whatever clothes were on the ground nearest to me, slapped on as much face as I could and emailed that “construction trucks had blocked me and I’d be at work shortly.” Then Hova, who’d been attacking my face all morning, jumped on the bathroom counter for kitty hugs, which meant that I was really late because I soak up kitty hugs in the morning.