unicorns, magic, and Jess R. Bitches
Today I found this note on my desk and assumed it was from a dancer with whom I'd recently had a conversation about rainbows, pots of gold, and fluffy care bears. I thought he left the note to remind me that even when I have a day that makes me prickly and stabby, I'm not necessarily a lousy person.
"Aw," I thought, "that's so him."
Then Lindsay confesses that she wrote the note and I hadn't even MENTIONED pixie dust to her. I don't know why, it never came up. She's just that intuitive.