The thing I was talking to the sweet nurse about, trying to get her to feel better about, was other people's road rage. But I wasn't very good at it, I'm afraid. I don't know how to just nut someone up about that, if you're trying to be a good driver, and you're a sensitive person, like she clearly was--because some people are nuts, and some people are cruel.

And, seriously, some people on stage need to understand that some people not on stage are making a deliberate choice (as opposed to harbouring a desperate yearning for the footlights), and they need to fucking respect that. My time working with improv gave me a fierce terror of audience participation, because it was just not cute from the other side, two or three times a week. But they knew I'd kill them, if the spotlight turned on me for anything other than highlighting the judge who'd be holding up scores and making one face per game. Visiting teams and new improvisers never won that battle.

Why no fridge, Hil?

I have to say, I'm not paying a huge amount of attention to Dallas, just listening to the noises for the sake of nostalgia, but most of them look pretty good for the amount of time that's past. Charlene Tilton is the only one that looks her age. And Bobby's wife is a fine replacement for Victoria Principal. In fact, I think I might prefer watching her to Pamela. The kids are punks, though. Luckily--Tony Almeida.

Why no fridge, Hil?

I'm staying in a dorm at Gallaudet. There is a "kitchen," but all the appliances are falling apart. Like, actual pieces of appliances scattered around the room.

Dang, Hil, that is a lot for one evening.

The performer commented on the breast size of several of the women who were called on stage. I know for certain that, if I'd been called up and she did that, I would have burst into tears.

OMG and WTF.

Also a hearty WTF to people commenting on Jilli's body, but I do think it makes you an official celebrity, so there's that?

And ita, that is a brilliant idea, and totally follows your family rules! I knew there was something.

Hil, that's a nightmare of an evening. Also, any improver who commented on my breasts would probably get an improvised knee to the nads.

He's just being gorgeous again, and I'm beginning to get suspicious. It doesn't seem right.

He is impossibly pretty.

Man, my PMS is almost unbearable lately. A week before my period I am just in the worst, blackest (sad or mad) mood for no reason. Eventually it hits me what it is and knowing it's crazy hormones helps, but it doesn't really lessen the moodiness.

That breast thing would probably result in me giving what I'd be sure was a completely withering stare, but everyone would think I was slightly hypoxic. There's not enough "fuck you asshole" for that.

Okay, so I sent off the "will everyone play?" email. We shall see. It will have to be all of us. Her guest list is: one sister, one first cousin, one second cousin once removed, two bachelor's degree friends, one master's degree ex-BF and intermittent FB (but not this weekend--they're not allowed), and one grownup not at school friend. I have not met the guy. He's really brave. I don't know how many of us he knows. Can't be more than half.

Everyone kisses everyone on Dallas. Maybe I'm face blind to them. It makes no sense.

He is impossibly pretty.

Yeah, when I get overwhelmed with the Jensen Ackles, I think..."But Bomer..." and the world is just crazy.

He's just being gorgeous again, and I'm beginning to get suspicious. It doesn't seem right.

I was talking about TV shows on USA with my new coworker. He's male, has a girlfriend, and I presume straight from the way he said that even he had to admit that Matt Bomer was impossibly attractive. My response was basically, "This is a true fact."

I have food now. Tofu and eggplant, and fried rice. Food makes things slightly better.

Bomer's gorgeousness is deeply suspicious. And yet, I might be willing to let him get away with whatever he's pulling.