The Pastry Sessions, and the Aging Process of the Surrogate Sibling

Recording was dismal. As soon as I get a copy, I'll post some songs so everyone can shower me with false compliments and temporarily boost my self-image. It really was terrible. Every time I started to sound good, my throat would close up and I'd make this disgusting gurgling hacking sound. True, we'll be able to just use these as scratch tracks and rerecord everything individually, but that plan only works if my respiratory system decides to start cooperating. In other Pastries news, Our Guitar Player is well on his way to growing an Unfortunate Moustache. I'm debating with myself whether or not an intervention is needed.

Today V and her Little Sister and I went to see Finding Neverland, where I cried like a fucking woman. Little Sister is getting into that dangerously-close-to-grown-up stage, by which I mean she's much taller than me. No, no, seriously, she's terribly mature, and although that's a bit unnerving I now feel as though I can swear around her without feeling insanely guilty. This is a big step.

K and I had the best thing today. We were standing in the entrance to Title Wave (local used bookstore), and K asked, "Where's your mom?" to which I immediately and matter-of-factly replied "She's dead." K responded without an ounce of contrition, "Well, then, I'm sorry I asked."
This exchange caused a woman to chuckle as she walked past us out the door, and I was in the middle of thinking "It's fun to make strangers laugh," when her teenaged son said quite loudly "I wish MY mom was dead!" I made a loud and ungraceful noise of laughter, and as the kid left the building he shouted "Merry Christmas!" at us, and then we laughed so hard I coughed up a lung (LITERALLY! No, not literally at all. But that would have been impressive, no?). It was beautiful.
I think this probably lost quite a bit in the transcription. Oh well. It made my day.