What I'm saying is, I don't see how you could do anything else.

I'm literally going to bed.

Some people observe Pizza Day on Sunday. As far as I know it is a peaceful schism, though.

I observe Pizza Day on alternate Thursdays because I am, frankly, pretty weird.

I guess I better do what the cowgirl and her dad say!

Or I could just go to bed.

I was definitely not expecting straight hair in that picture, Brenda--especially after you said the place was called Pincurls! But it's cute (OMG short!). Also, I want pork and apple pie now. Nom.

I am watching Grey's from last night (how did I watch less TV this week, when I was HOME all week? I guess I was busy trying to see friends and shit) and prepping to go see friends for dinner. I managed to miss my personal trainer session--I made it for 4pm, totally didn't realize what time it was, and ended up on a 45 minute call with my boss at 3:45. Oy.

Also, everyone knows that Friday is Pizza Day.

Chez Zmayhem is celebrating it on this Friday night.

Everybody's happily smek smek and eager to watch the new Brave DVD.

Some people observe Pizza Day on Sunday.

I don't understand those people and their beliefs, but I can still live peacefully among them!

OK, seriously, bed.

I want to go to bed, but Casper is not home yet. (She's at a roller-skating birthday party.) I feel really pathetic for wanting to go to bed before my 9 year old gets home.

"Raisins are humiliated grapes." - Benny and Joon.

I did not go out of my way to de-onerous, but my bathroom is sparkly and the bedroom floor is clean. Er. And the clean laundry is hung, folded, and put away. I did call and order tabbed dividers for my paper planner. I like my paper planner. It's also something of a scrapbook, a commonplace book, and using it is comforting and familiar and tactile.

But you can't order the dividers from the catalogue, must make an actual phone call. I always order sets for two years, that way it halves the necessity for speaking to a human on the phone.

Friday night = red wine, and the kids decided that first day of Thanksgiving Break = watching Harry Potter. So that's where my afternoon went. oops.

So, when I was in NH for Sandy, I totally didn't call my older brother to let him know I was in town. Or, I did, the call failed, and I never tried again on the house phone. While touring the garden, my mother kept dropping hints that he'd been a bad boy of late, which furthered my lack of desire to seek out his company.

And then he texted me Monday to ask why I hadn't let him know I was in town. Which I totally didn't respond to because the truth was too painful.

He texted and called tonight, and I returned the call, and he accepted my excuses and we pretended that I hadn't totally avoided him. It was much less traumatic than I thought it would be.

But, god, having a fake relationship kills me. I just wish he'd disappear forever. It's horrible. But he's such a fake non-person. And I know that if I cut ties my parents will forsake me, because they are giant enablers. But they laugh when they say they lock up the check books when he visits, like it's actually funny. Sometimes I wonder if I'd get more financial support if I were a giant lying stealing fuckup.