Fun with Taxes

I am so tickled pink with sequins this year. Our tax guy estimates that we'll actually get a refund this year, "but not very much." I squealed right there in his very office and did a chair dance. A chair dance is not a lap dance. A chair dance is where you dance in your chair. And if you don't know what a lap dance is, call me up and I'll come over and give you one. I told him that I was simply thrilled to not pay $800 this year. Deductions, that is the secret, he says. Well, I'll just be saving every damned receipt I can think of this next year. Not that we now have a jackpot of cash, as this unexpected excess (the taxes we thought we'd pay) will just feed the Visa. And we might go out to dinner, to celebrate!

I bought my new books, "God Save the Sweet Potato Queens" and "The Sweet Potato Queens Big-Ass Cookbook (and financial planner)." I'm still thinking about the lip gloss. I'm going to finish up a work presentation, practice The Sea Symphony, and spend some time doing Jack Shit. It's becoming one of my favorite activities. Being "busy" is incredibly overrated, I've decided, and my goal is now to avoid busy as much as humanly possible.

Lena has returned from Sweden and both her children (and her husband) are still among the living. I'm even more convinced that "traveling with small children" will not occur in his household unless it's truly worth it. For example, if one of our amazing cousins happens to decide to marry his charming and adorable girlfriend while we have "small children," and it looks to be a very fun wedding with booze, food, dancing, and all sorts of disruptive behavior, and I can't get away with leaving small children at home, then I might possibly be convinced to travel with small children.

But I'll drug them happily on the plane. And at night.