Woke up from the most stressful and terrifying dream I've had in ages--another dream where I'm Buffy, so there's lots of killing (this time killing all these people I went to school with and a couple professors on the side) and then I turned into Mel Gibson. Apparently I was Mel Gibson the Vampire, and I had to break into the Mall. I kept getting shot and then I jumped in this Saturn sedan that my grandmother was driving (like that's going to help me escape). Do mall security guards get to carry guns? I hope not; I went to high school with half of them. Giving those people guns is a baaaaad idea.

Had a conversation yesterday that started out as a lament for a friend of ours--all was well and good until he met this girl, got engaged, bought a house...now we never see him. (Now, that's not entirely fair--things were well and good for us when he was single because we could command his uninterrupted attention--and lest you think I am a completely self-obsessed bitch, I am happy he's found true love, yadda yadda. Just so we're clear on that.)

Anyway, we talk about how it's a shame that it's come to this, where we never see him and how he's changed, etc--and Boy says something like "I'm glad that didn't happen to us" and oh my goodness, did I disagree.

Then the Psd to HTML or PSD to CSS conversion is carried out by hard coding the image to fit into HTML frames or layers

Let's take a look at what happened when I met Boy: Started spending more and more time with him, less and less time with pals, moved in together, bought a house...To be fair (again), seeing less and less of my old pals was not entirely because of the time I was spending with Boy--they stopped coming home as often, and when they did it was hard to scrape together enough time to hang out...and then when we DID hang out, there was the weird, growing-apart business to contend with. It seemed easier to nix plans with them and just be with Boy, who became more than a lover or boyfriend or partner--he's a better friend than I've ever known, even if he doesn't like talking about shoes or hair or cute boys (heh).

He doesn't feel this way about his life--and doesn't have to. I guess it just struck me as odd, how differently we saw things.