When's lunch?

I continue to slave over the goals booklet. To say it's not going well is a massive understatement.
In point of fact, I think I'm going to have to add "finish goals thingie" as a goal for 2008. At least I like the frontispiece. It has a window that shows part of page 2, and that's fun, isn't it?
All materials are Club Scrap, Ranger, and Therm O Web. Except the pen. Oh, I forgot the pen. It's a Zig calligraphy pen. I have lost most of my beloved Sharpies. Hmmmmm... maybe I should look in Emily's room?

I love Club Scrap. And I love Ranger. And I'm exceedingly fond of Therm O Web, but dang, I wish they weren't holding a contest for their design teams. That's a bummer. I'm holding out hope that they'll change their behavior next year and forego the contest crap.

Leggy Supermodel is about to get on my bad side. She responded to my query about whether I should wear my new peasant blouse or a boring turtleneck with this quip:
I think you should throw up all your meals from now until CHA and then wear your size 0 strappy, clingy, transparent dress while you frolic in the fountains. But that's just me. LS

Bitch. Oh, wait, that's right, I've already been castigated for name-calling. Leggy, hon, if I threw up from now until CHA, I would still be a size 16 at the very least, and I would be very, very grumpy. *Really* grumpy. Like, downright name-calling grumpy. At least I bet I'll be able to pick you out in the crowd. And you better prepare yourself for a patented hug.

(I give clumsy hugs wearing stiletto heels and carrying a loosely-capped bottle of re-inker. Fear the hug of Bay.)