little victories

fixed the picture missing on "no woman, no cry" post. see me at my most high school-est. wait, i'll save you the scrolling: it's not pretty. i look at pictures like that, condemn myself as frumpy, and thank God for all the plucking my eyebrows get these days.

enough about that.

more on target when i can pry my heart out of my mouth. a million thanks to everyone today who listened to me pick apart the minute details of the twenty minute interview that left me with no understanding of where i am in this process.

but i'm very sure they want to fly me in.
not sure enough, though, to say so positively.
but mister Target loves my work? that much i can say with confidence....
the worst part of interviews, for me, is my "chance to ask questions." cause i am TERRIBLE at it. i'm such a snotty optomist that i don't anticipate things i'll need to know, and then i ask stupid questions because if i don't ask anything they'll think i don't think ahead or something. which, let's be honest, i don't. i throw life's ribbons in the air and watch them flutter while they land, and then i read the patterns.

c'est la vie, non?