Love is hell.
or...
Love is like racing across the frozen tundra on a snowmobile which flips over, trapping you underneath. At night, the ice-weasels come.
picture coming soon, when I find my lucky pencil!
Snow has been away for a week now and I go pick him up from the airport tonight. I hate waiting >_< That and I'm fairly certain that our house is haunted so I haven't slept in a week.
*yawn*


