It's not quite Heaven, and I'm not there yet, but this summer I'm going to work at a place that has both margaritas and a nice yarn store within walking distance. The only fly in this drunken knitting ointment is that I don't think there's cable or reliable internet, so it's going to be tough to keep tabs on the playoff hockey.
Also, the producer is, as usual, being damn slow about calling me back, and if I'm gonna get there in time for the first show, I need to buy a plane ticket ASAP. I just need a few more details before I start shopping. And then, singing, tequila, and yarn. Eventually there will be a salt water pool and a sauna involved, but that's not in the same place as the yarn.
I guess a girl can't have everything.
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