(no subject)

Grandma, Beth, and Uncle Steve aren't coming. The roads are too bad. Hell, I can't even go to Dad's tonight like I planned because of the roads. (Mom forbids it, and as she has control of my bank account I think I'd better do as she says. =P) She said they even closed the highway. So no Dad's until tomorrow.

Happy Thanksgiving, everyone! I wish I could save you all some pie!

Stolen from tyramir

1. Grab the closest book to you.
2. Turn to page 123.
3. Find the 5th sentence.
4. Post the sentence in your weblog along with these instructions.
5. Don't grab a 'cool' book, just the one closest to you

Son of a Witch, by Gregory Maguire. Page 122, not 123, because 123 only has four sentences on it. =P

The stars were cold and he couldn't leap to grasp them, to pass fist over fist along their lofty network of knobs, arrive someplace new, and, if not safe, at least less heinous.