Real Coffee

I know. I have about a million updates for you. I have photos, too. I just don’t feel like sitting here for more than 10 minutes at the moment.

I had my big night out last night. We went to see Particle. I stayed up until 12:30am. I didn’t get drunk or stay until the end, because I’m not that zany, but still, WAY past my bedtime and I stood at the front and shook my bootie with all the youngster hippies and loaded people and a wannabe Timberlake. It rocked.

I got to bed after 1am and then we were up and out the door before 9am to do our Thanksgiving food shopping. We went to Freddies, Costco AND Albertsons. (It wasn’t the plan to go three places, it just worked out that way.) Then we went to a greasy spoon and got breakfast and I drank real coffee. I’ve come completely unhinged.

In the midst of all this I’ve done about 5 loads of laundry and yardwork and food preparation and cleanup and, um, watched 4 episodes of Buffy.

Oh, I’m also watching season 2 of 24 and Jack Bauer’s daughter is a big fat idiot. Because, you know, if I was lost in the wilds and some strange forest dwelling man offered to let me stay in his cabin, I would surely emerge after my shower in a skimpy, tight white tank top with the world’s sheerest excuse for a bra.

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