A Friend in Need is a Real Pain in the Ass.
So needy, in fact, that I'm no longer too embarrassed to accept acts of kindness from friends. I have been reduced to being devoid of shame. A few good friends have offered their assistance in one form or another lately and under normal, saner circumstances, I would have feigned my usual stalwart attitude, sincerely thanked them and until Hell started churning out Freeze Pops, never ever taken them up on their offer.
At this point, however, I'm an emotional baglady, clanging my tin cup against the ribs of the starving blind cat huddled on my lap on top of the stained tattered army blanket I found alongside that most delicious half-eaten rancid falafel in the dumpster off of Broad and Tasker. My shoes have holes. My TiVo subscription has expired. I am a broken woman.
OK, maybe it's not that bad. But hell, I'm just warning you, if you offer [insert obscenely generous act of saintly goodness], I will probably accept. Just a warning. I found myself doing that today. And I didn't even feel that guilty about it.
Alright. I'm over it. I.Am.Putting.The.Violin.Back.In.The.Case.
Yesterday was SFG's birthday and I took him to The Grey Lodge for one of these beauties. But the real gift was a reading from Philly's Greatest Psychic because I knew he'd be game for such an adventure. And that's why I like him.
Oh yeah! And we went another Eagles game on Sunday and I didn't faint! Hurrah!