Here's the thing. From the time I was a very little girl I just assumed that Lochlan was positively magical. So he didn't actually have to do anything to impress me. I figured he could do everything already.
But don't tell him that, because rock stars have the BIGGEST EGOS AROUND.
Oh, look. Here's Ben now, speaking of
In other news, Sam and Matt (just Matt, thanks, he keeps correcting me and does not like to be called Matthew. Okay. I get it. Sort of. Okay, no, not really. Matt is what's by the front door. And the back door. And the dumb nail polish they sell at Sephora that isn't shiny so it looks like you've already ruined your manicure) are just about all moved in and all awkward grins and excited goofiness! They're ADORABLE.
PJ is complaining that the 'girls' on the point almost outnumber the boys now.
I smile at him completely unsympathetically. Not if I can help it.
God, Bridget. You're impossible.
No, I'm a rock star, dammit. Just like everybody else!
Okay, got it, Bridget. Don't get your panties in a bunch.
I'm not wearing any. Also, I need an aspirin.