I have been to cake heaven...

...and it is the Gingerbread Cake w/Cream Cheese Frosting at Whole Foods Market. Holy effing crap, people. It was one of my Team Member's birthdays today, so I brought this cake for our team to pig out on and oh my GAWD. It was like we were all having orgasms. Everyone in the room was moaning and groaning as they ate it. Damn, it was good. I had a smallish piece, and I think I acheived my monthly allowance of sugar intake. Yowzah.

Also? My child has turned into a monster. After her insane spoiling at the hands of my relatives this past weekend, she went back to school with a vengeance. Monday she bit a classmate and left marks. Today, she and her little rocker-boy boyfriend Daschel conspired to rip up the a book that belonged to the school's director. She's had to "go to the office" twice this week, and it's only Wednesday. Damn, she's SO two...

Speaking of the little hellion, I think I pretty much finished Christmas shopping for her today online. Now I just need to figure out what to get my mom, my Secret Santa person at work, a few other friends and children in my life... And no, I didn't go get the Christmas tree tonight, but I have an excuse: I'm waiting for the cold front to roll in so I can get in the spirit. It's hard to get motivated to shop for holiday decor when it's 78 degrees outside.

And finally: What's UP with Britney showing her damn cooter to the world every other day now?! I mean, what the fuck is wrong with these skanky-ass young stars? I'm no prude, but surely, if you're Lindsay "Already Peaked" Lohan, Paris "What? Where AM I?" Hilton, or Britney "I love Cheetos, ya'll!" Spears, and the paparazzi follow you everywhere you go, then you a) know to wear underwear under your mini skirt and/or b) keep your damn legs closed when you're exiting the Porsche. I bet their mamas are so proud that photos their daughters' labia are being downloaded 1,000 times a minute right now.

I guess my daughter isn't such a monster after all...

It's 8:47...

...and I'm about to hit the hay. Yep, I'm that lame.

But I have an excuse. Really I do.

See, Sunday night/morning, The Geej woke me up at 4:14am coughing over the baby monitor. She coughed and coughed, and I finally got up and dosed her with some Tylenol Cough/Cold that primarily got in her hair and on her sheets because it was pitch black dark in her room. And I never went back to sleep.

Then last night, I didn't fall asleep until sometime after 12:30, then I woke up at 3:42 and, you guessed it, never went back to sleep until about 20 minutes before my alarm went off. Thanks hot flashes/night sweats!!

So by about 4:00 this afternoon, my arse was a-draggin' somethin' fierce.

Tomorrow I'm going to try and buy a Christmas tree with the hopes that the (promised) cold weather this weekend will shove me into the holiday spirit. Cuz right now this 82 degree shit isn't really making me think Santa Claus and stockings, you know?

Okay, off to brush the teeth and slide into bed. Nighty night, chilluns.

The Season of Snot and Sass

O Ye Goddes.

Wouldst thou help me in not throttling mynst childe withun my handes, as she has entered the season of snot and sass.

The snot, it cometh. Like the flood thou didst unleash upon Noah, her nostrils have runneth forward.

And the backtalketh. After but three fortnights with her most adoring kin during the Time of Giving Thanks, she hath become spoilt. Rotten, dearest Lord. And the words that do cometh from her tiny baby's mouth are only "NO!" and "Doest this!" and "Doest that!"

I fear dear Father that I may smacketh her peaches into next week if she doesn't abstain.

And please Lord, the snot. Make it stop if you feel me worthy. For you see, my child has become somewhat addicted to the Infant's Tylenol Cough/Cold and the Infant's Robitussin. She becometh like an Oklahoma meth addict in the field, pining for more pseudophedrine.

In Your name...

Will somebody please tell this cat that he's no longer the baby of the house?

I mean for Pete's sake.

BURRRRRRRRRRRRP!

Ah Thanksgiving...




It's like a race to see how much food you can actually ingest without barfing or passing out. At least that's the way it is with my family. We had a great time, aside from the couple of instances that I wanted to stab my mother with the carving knife. But other than that, good family fun.





Let's see, it was me, The Geej, my mom, my mom's sister Luanne and her sweet, French husband Jean-Paul and their sweeeeeeeeeet and very patient dog Missy, my mom's other sister Peggy and her lazy ass husband Mike and their obscenely humongous boat, my mom's brother Richard, and my friend Julie. It was noisy and there was lots o' booze consumed along with the buckets of food. The most surreal moment was when we were eating and Joy Division came on the random play of my iPod. Followed by Le Tigre. I must say, it made for interesting holiday muzak. But my LORD the food.

And I gotta say this: I love how after the big chow fest, the men think it's their God-given right to plop their asses down in front of the t.v. and not lift a chubby finger to help clean up simply because "the Cowboys are on." Does having a dick really mean that you get out of housework? Gosh, men are lucky...


Julie and I came back to Austin Thursday night because, even with the fold out couch being utilized, there weren't enough beds at my mom's house for all of us. The Geej stayed there because my aunts threatened me with my life if I were to take her from them. Here's what rock stars Julie and are: We were in our p.j.'s by 6:30 and in bed by 9:30, still full from eating seven hours previously.

Yesterday we went to a pub and watched the Longhorns pitifully lose to A&M. In Austin. Only the 9th time that's happened in 80 Austin match-ups between the two. Luckily, I'd had several bloody marys to kill the pain. Then last night we had to make Julie's required pilgrimage to Chuy's for a cheese chili relleno. Once again, we came home full and sleepy. She hit the road for Oklahoma early this morning, and I'm heading out to my mom's later today.

This year I gave thanks for my family, my friends, Mr. Wonderful and his family, my job, having had another year with my ancient cat Ellen, my first year in my own home, and my return to health. I am really a very lucky lady.


Hope ya'll had a Happy Thanksgiving too.

1 Word Meme

Stolen from Angry Pregnant Lawyer. That's right: It was the first time I ever went to her blog, and I stole something. What's she gonna do, sue me?

Oh, wait...

Yourself: Overwhelmed
Your partner: Away
Your hair: Dyed
Your Mother: Generous
Your Father: Gone
Your Favorite Item: Sanity
Your dream last night: Bizarre
Your Favorite Drink: Water
Your Dream Car: Paid
Your Dream Home: Mid-century
The Room You Are In: Office
Your Ex: Immature
Your fear: Hospitals
Where you Want to be in Ten Years? Healthy
Who you hung out with last night: Geej
What You're Not: Quiet
Muffins: Pumpkin
One of Your Wish List Items: Landscaping
The Last Thing You Did: Ate
What You Are Wearing: Jeans
Your favorite weather: Crisp
Your Favorite Book: Nonfiction
Last thing you ate: Indian
Your Life: Full
Your mood: Edgy
Your Best Friends: Amazing
What are you thinking about right now: Thanksgiving
Your car: Clean!
What are you doing at the moment: Typing
Your summer: Rough
Relationship status: Deep
What is on your TV: Off
What is the weather like: Autumnal
When is the last time you laughed: Sunday

In which my blogger guilt gets the best of me.

I shouldn't be posting. I have nothing interesting to say (so what else is new, right?), and I'm dog tired. But alas, I haven't posted since Friday, and that one was one of those "hey check this link out" posts that's really no better than a mass e-mail so here you have it: a lame-a-licious post covered in guilt.

Friday night was a blast. Thanks to all of youse blogging bitches for the gathering. I wish we could do that more often, because really, seeing ya'll face-to-face was a treat. What was it that drunk-ass Puerto Rican/Norwegian guy said at the Carousel? "You're like 'Sex in the City', Austin style...but older." Oh, and something I learned: Do not, under ANY circumstances think you're tough enough to follow Finlandia from Opal's with bad Chardonnay at the Carousel. Because you're not tough enough. No one is.

Saturday I experienced the bliss that is the shrimp chili relleno at Matt's. Don't let anyone tell you that a sauce featuring walnuts and raisins isn't tasty, cuz it is. Very much so. That lunch was pretty much all I accomplished on Saturday, so I'd say the day was a whopping success.

Sunday, ran errands and did laundry like a mad woman, trying to make up for my slacker-ness on Saturday.

And today? Stayed home from work with a sick toddler. She wasn't running a fever or anything but my GOD the snot. It was endless. There were two raging rivers of it, one out of each nostril. And she was coughing like an old trucker. And then there were the weepy eyes. I tried like hell to participate in a 10am conference call I'd scheduled, but when she came waltzing into the room while I was on the phone trying to be all business-like and presented me with a tower of Legos while loudly singing "Happy Birthday," I knew I should throw in the towel. Malcontent Mama met us for nourishment at Luby's, and later The Geej and I went on a nice walk to enjoy the afternoon, but other than that, we stuck close to home.

So tomorrow's the only day I'm actually going into the office this week (The Geej's school is closed on Wednesday), then heading out to my mom's on Wednesday afternoon/evening for Thanksgiving. My mom's two sisters, brother, their respective spouses and a couple of cousins will be there, so it'll be a houseful. One Aunt/Uncle combo is bringing their boat so we can go explore Lake LBJ. Another Aunt/Uncle combo is bringing their kick ass dog Missy, with whom The Geej has a major infatuation. I'll be bringing the items from the ever-expanding shopping list my mom keeps e-mailing me. And the Xanax. I'll be bringing some of that too.

Booze and burglary just don't mix.

A word of advice from your good buddy Karla May:

Next time you're liquored up, and you're hankering for more hooch but the stores are already closed, I don't recommend that you do this. I really, really don't.

Bed Head.

When I was five, I had long, blonde hair. My mom would tell me to go to the bathroom and brush it. It was always a rat's nest, and I'd go through a bottle of "No More Tangles" every month. Anyway, I'd go to the bathroom and brush the front and sides, but never the back. My mom would get so frustruated with me.

Her: Why didn't you brush your hair like I asked you?

Me: I did!

Her: No, the back of it is a mess.

Me: I know! I couldn't get the brush to go through it.

Her solution? She cut all my hair off. Well, actually, she took me to the BARBER shop up the street where my dad went, and had them cut it off. I think I was the first little girl who'd ever walked through the door of this place. Naturally, they gave me a chili bowl haircut. It was devastating. I made sure to wear a dress to school every day during the first week of first grade so that people would know I was a girl.

And now, this is what awaits me most every morning:

And another view:

Hey, at least she comes by it honestly...

The Skank Who Dares Not Speak Its Name and other stuff

And so I dare to ask--When did this become "pretty"?
I mean, God knows, I'm no fashionista. And yes, I'd love to be able wear some of the size 4, $2,000 frocks she goes out in on a daily basis. But really: what is it about this woman that is so compelling? Will someone enlighten me? Does she have some gifts or talents or otherwise noteworthy characteristics beyond being blonde, skinny, and rich? Is this the woman that 12 year old girls are aspiring to be? Her very existence makes me shudder. Remember when we were 13/14 and the "Like a Virgin" era Madonna was considered the fall of all womankind? I'm now thinking that she was just a horseman for this apocalypse.

Also, you know what annoys the fuck out of me? Shop spelled "shoppe." Old spelled "Olde" and anything that should be spelled with a "C" being spelled with a "K," e.g. "Krazy," "Kountry," or "Kupboard." That shit just drives me nuts.

What was up with that wicked wind blowing today? My lord! I felt like an extra from the original Broadway cast of "Oklahoma." It was bizarre. But at least it feels like fall again now. I mean, at least for now. I'm sure it'll be back up in the 90s before too long.

I had a dream last night that I was seated in my house on Woodhollow back in Longview (haven't lived there since 1984, by the way) enjoying an enormous helping of pork chops (which I haven't eaten since 1994, by the way). God, they were good. All day today I was thinking about eating pork. Which I will never (knowingly) do. Ever again. But damn if I wasn't thinking about it...

I don't know if ya'll know this, but next week is Thanksgiving. Um. WHAT?! Where did this year go. This time last year, I'd just closed on my house and was in the throws of preparing to move. Damn. I'm a bit bewildered by it all.

Can I tell you how excited I am about Friday night? I'm going to be hanging with the Texpatriate, Bookhart, La Turista, Mama Malcontent, Mrs. Fantasy, Badger, Secretly Evil, Amamgets, (possibly) The Jellomonster Strikes! [see links to the right], and a colorful cast of other lay-deez as we drink and bond ourselves into oblivion. Watch the fuck out Austin, is all I have to say. When a coven like this gets together, strange and wonderful things are liable to happen...

"Sunny day, everything's A-OK..."

The Geej is at the Elmo stage. Which is fine. She only has one Elmo item, and it lives at her grandmother's house because it talks, and I don't likes no noisy toys. Anyway, I started TiFaux-ing Sesame Street every day a while back, and as part of our end-of-day wind down, I fast forward past most of the rest of the show to get to "Elmo's World," which is always in the last 20 or so minutes. She hasn't really shown much interest in the rest of the show until last week.

Last week's shows featured a running storyline of the street's Veterinarian, Gina, going off to Guatemala to adopt a 10 mo. old baby named Marco. Gina's single, like me, and all of Gina's friends on Sesame Street were super excited about this whole event. I'd be fast-forwarding past anything having to do with the baby in order to get us to "Elmo's World", and The Geej would protest, "I wanna watch this. I wanna see the baby!" So we did. And I've got to hand it to Sesame Street--they did a nice job of handling this. I found myself getting all weepy and shit during one of the segments. They also showed some videos throughout the week that featured "non-traditional" families--mixed race, same-sex parents, single parents, grandparents as parents, etc. I'm sure it's stuff like this that gets the right wingers out there all up in arms and has them wanting to yank CPB funding for this show. However, as someone who is in a non-traditional family by choice, I applaud them showing families of all stripes.

Then, as if that weren't enough, on Friday's "Elmo's World," Elmo was thinking about babies. It was all babies, all the time. I don't think The Geej will ever allow me to erase this episode.

Live blogging from 1:36 in the 4th qtr.

Ya'll,

I loves me some Texas football.

I could give a crap about any other sports ever, but U. Texas football? Fuggetiaboutit.

Anyway, this one has been heart breaking and exciting all at the same time.

Truthfully, we deserved to lose the Texas Tech game. Although they're a one note team, their one note is an amazing quarterback with a golden arm. And it was smokin' that night. But by hook or crook, we came up on top.

But now, our number is up.

Colt McCoy got injured, and then everything went to hell. Who knew he was so important?! Anyway, we're about to lose this mofo unless we can force a turnover and push it back down into field goal range. Not going to happen.

I know this post is disjointed, but I'm trying to watch the game. And I'm going to log off before we lose.

So anyway...

Now you know my semi-secret: I love Longhorn football. And I'm teaching The Geej how to do "Hook 'Em Horns." So sue me.

NyQuil* Rules!

*Or in my case, the less expensive CVS store brand NyQuil knock-off.

It started with that damn tickle in the back of my throat on Tuesday.
By yesterday, I'd started coughing up strange looking globs of gunk and feeling run down.
This morning, I woke up and felt sort of like I'd been run over by a Mini Cooper.
Tonight, it feels like I've been run over and then backed up on and run over again by a dump truck.

I'm sick, hence the lack o' posts.

Hack.

Cough.

Could this sickness be caused by the fact that our FUCKING WEATHER can not figure itself out?

This time last week, it was getting down into the 40s at night and was totally, wonderfully fall.
Today, it was 89 degrees with, literally, 85 percent humidity. Tomorrow, the high's supposed to be 90. Global warming much?

Since my last post, it appears if people have woken up and started to smell the proverbial coffee. First, Britney dumps K-fed, then both houses of Congress were snatched from the arrogant-as-fuck Republiccans. As someone who lives on a liberal island surrounded by the rest of my ultra conserative state, it does my heart good to know that the American people have finally used the voting booth to tell that choade Karl Rove and his monkey-puppet GWB that maybe, just maybe, they're not infallible. (If only this could've happened 2 years ago...) And to have that dickwad Rumsfeld gone too? If I weren't so damn sick, I might dance a little jig in my undies right on the lawn of the Capitol. But not tonight.

Tonight, I've got a date with my NyQuil wannabe.

Further proof that my mother has no idea who I am:

These socks that she purchased for me for Halloween. This year. My THIRTY-SEVENTH year. Thinking that I might actually wear them. You know, to be wacky: What this photo (taken with my ever-increasingly-obsolete 3.2 megapixel piece o'shite digital camera) fails to do justice to is the little pom-pom balls around the ankle area. They are covered in gold mylar that sticks out like the hairs from a mole.

Hot.

Things.

So I guess it's clear that I have fallen way short of achieving my NoBloPoMo goal. Oh well. I knew that November was going to start out busy what with Mr. Wonderful's visit and all, so maybe I shouldn't have tried to make the committment in the first place. I'm clearly feeling some guilt about the whole thing, but I'll try and survive.

This weekend was great. We had a fabulous time. We hung out with my friends on Friday night, his friends on Saturday night, Borat on Sunday afternoon (OMG, the wrestling scene?!), and The Geej on Sunday night. He had to leave at 4 freakin' 30 this morning to catch an airport shuttle for an obscenely early departing flight. I already miss him so much it's silly. And yes, I'll be going to sleep at 9:00pm tonight since I woke up at 3:00am this morning.

It's back in the 80s here. The MUGGY 80s. And there are people outside the store where I work putting Christmas lights on the trees that line the sidewalk. They're sweating their asses off. Ho! Ho! Ho!

Speaking of holidays, my mother is driving me NUTS with her hyper-excitement over the fact that she's hosting Thanksgiving at her house. Every single day I get an e-mail from her with the Thanksgiving-related info or questions or updates. God, I'm going to have to stay so liquored up just so I can deal with her that weekend. Before you call CPS, please know that there'll be lots of other adults there to help oversee The Geej.

Day 3 post of shame.

Well, I guess I'm out of the running for any NoBloPoMo prizes. Damnit. See, yesterday was a little nuts, and try as I may going back over it in my mind, I can't find a time when I could've posted:

• Woke at 6:15
• Got The Geej ready for school; made her lunch; got myself ready; picked up after her morning messes
• Took the Geej to school
• Came back to the house for about 40 minutes to vacuum, take out the trash, and dump the diaper genie
• Got back in the car and went to the airport to pick up Mr. Wonderful (his flight arrived at 10am)
• M.W. and I went to breakfast and stuffed ourselves silly on migas and homefries
• Came back to my house; Packed the Geej's bag for the weekend
• Needed a nap (M.W. had woken up at 3am to catch his flight; me? I'm always tired); Took nap
• Woken up at 3pm by my cellphone ringing (it was my mom, of course)
• Roused our groggy asses and went and got The Geej at school
• Fought traffic heading out to HWY 71 and westward to meet my mom at the halfway point to her house (apparently, on top of the already horrendous "I gotta get this Excursion out to Steiner Ranch/Lakeway" traffic that happens in the 71/2244/620 area on any given afternoon, there was a show at the Backyard AND it's the beginning of deer season, so lots of hunters heading west; You should've seen it--backed up from 620 to Southwest Pkwy.)
• Got back to town and squeaked in reservations for dinner at one my favorite places
• Watched the hilariously distrubing "Hand Banana" episode of Aqua Teen Hunger Force
• Got dressed up; went to dinner
• After dinner, went and met some of my friends at Donn's Depot for the unofficial, but official "Let's Meet Mr. Wonderful" gathering
• Had several vodka tonics and lots of good conversation
• Got sleepy and cold (we were sitting outside, which now that I think about it, is pretty stupid since all of the REAL Donn's action goes on INside, but anyway)
• Went home

So other than maybe not watching that 15 minutes of t.v., I can't see a timeslot when I could've fit in a post. I suck. Day 3, and I'm already out of the running.

It's kind of like the time I tried to give up cussing for Lent, and I only lasted an afternoon. I should know myself better.

L-A-M-E-O

(Sung to the tune of "B-I-N-G-O")

There was a blogger, had a blog
and Lame-o was her name-0
L - A - M - E - O
L - A - M - E - O
L - A - M - E - O
And Lame-o was her name-o!

Proof that I'm lame #1:
I fell asleep while talking to Mr. Wonderful on the phone last night. Twice. TOTALLY not his fault. All mine. Lame. SO lame.

Proof that I'm lame #2:
I have a list of about 12 things I need to do to get my house/self in decent shape for Mr. Wonderful's visit tomorrow. Number of things on that list I think I might actually do? Maybe 3. Lame and lazy.

Proof that I'm lame #3:
So I was gonna cash in a few stock options to help me pay back my savings account for all the money I've had to take from it for the 6 weeks I wasn't getting paid + the medical bills. I got on E*Trade, and I got greedy. Decided to put in an order for my options to trade ONLY if it hit a price that was about $.50 above where it was trading at the time. I was only trading in a few options, so it would've netted me about $30 more than if I'd cashed them in on the spot. Not only did my stock never hit the limit price, it PLUNGED through the floor after our earnings release today. Greedy, lame, and poor.

In other non-lame news, I bought The Geej a new hat and mittens today. She couldn't wait to try them on when we got home from school. Is it just me, or is this photo screaming, "Hey!! I gotta new hat! And-a some new mittens! Fuggetaboutit!" For some reason, I hear her sounding like some bad Italian caricature. (Check out the remnants of her school playground on her pants. Sweet.) Get your spicy new hats here! New hats-a for EVERYbody. Mangia!!

Random thoughts to kick off NaBloPoMo.

In no particular order...

How come, right after my younger cat takes a dump in the litterbox, he runs around the house like a mad man? Sort of like his ass is on fire. Wait. I think I just answered my own question.

No matter what kind of pissy mood I'm in, if i see a dog sticking its head out of a car window, I smile.

I used to have a RAGING crush on my cat's vet, and I'd make up excuses to stop by the vet's office in the (highly unlikely) event that I'd see him. Now I make up excuses to stop by there so I can love on the stray kittens they have up for adoption.

I have limited the number to 5 of how many times in a row The Geej can ask the same question. Her capacity for repetition is mind-boggling.

Speaking of The Geej, she went trick-or-treating last night for the first time, and took to it like a fish to water. She went with La Turista's Peach and Olive, so I think seeing the older girls do it was helpful. But soon, she was going at it on her own. I had to keep her from just walking into people's houses when they answered the door. She was dressed as a princess--simple, predictable, and totally adorable. If La Turista would send me a photo (hint, hint), I'd try and post.

Before I die, I want to drive a car in a demolition derby. I am dead serious. Demolition derbys (derbies?) are the BOMB, and I used to go see them all the time in the late summer/early fall when I lived in Chicago, and they were generally associated with some nearby county's fair, so I also got to see livestock judging, eat funnel cakes, ride the ferris wheel, and check out the local "art" that was being judged in the county fair contest. I have no idea why demo derbies (derbys?) aren't as popular in Texas as they are in the Midwest. Seems sort of counter-intuitive, no? Anyway, one of these days I'm gonna drive one of those damn cars, and I'm going to smash it to bits. TO BITS!!

So get this: I'm STILL having horrible flashbacks of being in the hospital. I'll be doing something totally mundane--like going down the elevator at work--and BOOM, I'm back in my hospital room at 3am in horrible pain with no one answering my call button. All of the sudden, I've broken out in a cold sweat, my heart is racing, and everything starts to go grey. I launch into a panic attack at the sheer memory of it. And the nightmares are horrible and happen almost every night. I think I'm having PTSD. Or something. Whatever it is, I want it to fucking stop.

Let's think happy thoughts, shall we?

Here's one: MR. WONDERFUL IS COMING TO VISIT ON FRIDAY!!

That's a happy thought indeed. Last time I saw him, I was in a dilaudid-induced stupor and was having one of my worst weekends in the hospital. His visit is a total blur. I have no recollection of it other than the fact that I know he was there because I remember seeing him and holding his hand. And I also let him touch my insanely hairy ankles as he rubbed my feet. (I was weak!!)But other than that? Zilcho. So I look forward to seeing him now that I have what's left of my wits about me and I'm not hooked up to any machinery or tubing.

La Turista posted some photos from our roadtrip to Graceland many moons ago. I'm not sure why or how those masks ended up coming with us, but we decided that we'd get our pictures taken with them pretty much everywhere. They ended up playing an inexplicably significant part in our trip. I'll never forget riding on the little shuttle bus from the Graceland visitors' center across the street to the house with those damn masks on. There is simply no telling what the Japanese and Australian tourists thought of us. And then there was us getting hammered in the lobby of the Peabody waiting on those damn ducks to waddle by. And my drunk ass having an allergic reaction to raw tuna and whelting up like a sideshow freak. And then us hooking up with the doorman at some lame-o bar who squired our drunk asses around and showed us the REAL Memphis. And then there's the very vivid memory of La Turista busting her ass as she descended out of our horse drawn carriage. And us getting pulled over by that hard-assed Arkansas highway patrol dude on the way to Dallas. And getting Taco Bell and much beer and rocking out to Pearl Jam when we got back to Erwina's apartment that night. Damn that was a good trip. If you can go to Graceland and see it gussied up for Christmas, do it. It's a truly American experience. But be sure and check to see if they're open before you go. I'm just saying... I just love Memphis, period. When I was living in Birmingham, it was close enough where you could do a long weekend there. One spring, I went to the "Memphis in May" music festival, and it was awesome because it reminded me of how SXSW used to be in the mid-90s. Ah...the carefree days of yore when you could just take off and pull a weekender.

Sigh.

Okay, was that random enough for you?

Tomorrow is ninja house-cleaning night in preparation for Mr. Wonderful's arrival. And also, just because it needs to be done. So I'm sure my post will be something riveting about the wonders of Soft Scrub or something. Until then...