Another funny (not work safe) flash movie and song.

Happy-clicker was down for a bit today because I've just switched web hosts. Should be all good now, and I get lots of fun toys to play with like PHP and SQL.

I officially gave up on NaNoWriMo as of late Saturday night. After spending all day typing and cleaning, I was still typing on Andrew's computer when I realized that I could either spend the rest of the night just catching up, or go do something fun with my boyfriend. My official reasons are Michael's visit and the RSI in my wrists. Andrew says he's surprised that one didn't stop me earlier.

If I didn't essentially have to write everything twice—writing by hand all day and then having to type it later, I'm sure I would've have finished this thing. That makes it that much harder to quit than if I was just hopelessly behind.

Now I feel like I'm in mourning for a novel not quite finished. I have about ten pages handwritten that were never typed, I'm guessing 30,000 words written total, multiple tangents waiting to be finished, and a pile of notes of things to have been written about. Without the context of NaNoWriMo giving permission to write badly as long as you write quickly, there's no point in continuing a novel that was never meant to be read by anyone. If I was looking for proof that I can write a lot given enough time, I'd just need to take a word count of my web site.

I'm trying to find a way to ave this for next year that will be allowed in the rules, or else a way to call it finished.

My L & I claim was finally accepted!

Stari.org is in such a need of a recoding it's embarrassing. All geek stuff is being pushed off until next month when NaNoWriMo is over.

I saw Butterfinger flavored hot chocolate mix in Pete's. It looks like it's supposed to be peanut butter flavored, but hot peanut butter just doesn't do it for me.

Hot laptop burns scientist's penis(!)

The tulip bulbs I ordered from the last fundraiser came in today. They smelled all earthy and sort of reminded me of my stir-fry vegetable lunch, which made me want to eat them. Then I saw right on the package, "Warning: Bulbs are NOT edible – Please do not eat!" Guess I'm not the first to have this thought.

Writing the novel for Trent is having the unfortunate side effect of making me miss him. [...] I realized that I may have never explained who Trent is, though I've mentioned him various times so a faithful reader could probably tell he's a friend I had in Indiana, and "that guy I wrote the poem for".

[continued on stari.org]

Tom tried to get an "honorable mention" on my web site by insulting my boots. I told him there's no point if he's not going to see him so I'll print this out and show him.

People at work are dressed up in purple Huskies sweatshirts and I just figured out why—some game that I've never heard of. (I'm telling people I'm doing good if I know what sport the teams play.) I still associate purple college sweatshirts with the University of Evansville so I keep catching myself wondering why everyone is dressed up for Evansville.

I wore a purple sweater today completely on accident. It was the easiest thing to grab when I realized Jason wasn't home. How embarrassing—now people might think I like the game.

Paul told me he saw an ad for Tofurkey in the paper. He had thought I was making the thing up!

I love my roommate but I nearly killed him this morning. Jason was working overnights this week and said he would give me a ride to work in the morning. I went downstairs at about 7:40 to get clothes from the dryer. I knocked on his door to make sure he was awake, looked inside, and he wasn't there. I started panicking, looked for his car, got dressed as quickly as possible and tried to figure out how soon I could possibly get to work by bus. I had found the number for work to say I was late and was just about to call it when I looked out the door once more and saw his car pull up front.

He knew what he was doing all along too.

You can get personalized bottles of Jones Soda.

Canada to U.S.: Mind your business

I forgot there's one good thing I have to say about winter. It's chenille sweater season, and you can find them cheap at Ross.

I gave Izzy ten reasons he should come over for Thanksgiving:

1. There will be olives. If this doesn't work then I have no hope of ever seducing you if I can't pull of such a simple temptation.

2. You forgot it was a holiday. This has to be better than the going to work you already had planned.

3. It will be far from traditional: One person didn't plan to celebrate the holiday, one is Canadian, and my only idea of Thanksgiving is eating lots of mashed potatoes.

4. Mashed potatoes.

5. No animals will be killed or otherwise made to suffer for the making of this meal.

6. You'll get to say you've eaten Tofurkey. You'll get to say you've seen your friends eat Tofurkey.

7. The box says it feeds "four hungry people" and I don't know if Tofurkey reheats well.

8. You're one of those unshy, outgoing people. This will be the perfect balance between people you know and a new person to meet.

9. The chance to see me cook to this extent comes once in a lifetime.

10. Garlic stuffed olives. Garlic olive oil. Garlic mashed potatoes? Garlic.

Let's hope it works.

Company name of the day: Erotic Steel

It's going to be weird next month at work, to just do something like read again when I'm not doing work.

I feel like I've been making deals with fate these last few months, every time a wave of sickness goes through work. Not before Halloween, I have to make it to November. Not while Michael's visiting, I have to make it to December. Not until next year so I can get real sick time again, and ideally not at all. I was up until 3 am for the cuddle party Sunday, after midnight for the Pink Dots show and suddenly yesterday I got that pre sore throat icky feeling right after lunch so I'm fighting once again with Echinacea, zinc, and vitamin C to not get sick.

A song about soy sauce! I approve.

Jeremy: well, between you and shannon you probably average a C cup

I'm pretty much going to have to spend every free minute writing for NaNoWriMo to keep up now. I have over twenty handwritten pages to type at the moment and all the writing is bringing back my RSI. At least this is temporary. I realized Michael is going to be here in one week to the end of the month so I pretty much have to be done before he arrives since I'm sure he won't want to watch me write for eight hours a day.

I took an illustration class in art school where the teacher made us do a fifty (I think) page sketchbook. Her theory was that we have some number of bad drawings in us to get out. I'm trying to think with the same theory on writing. I'm doing a lot of bad writing on this thing, but it's bad writing that has to be gotten out to get to the good writing mixed in.

How stupid can some people be? ' Rattlesnake kiss nearly kills man

Basically, this guy was showing off by kissing his new rattlesnake. The second time he does it, the snake bites him and he nearly dies. He drops the snake and the friend who was there kills it with his boot. So person does something stupid and the animal has to die as a consequence.

I just lost my first game of Hacker!

This goes along with that last site even if it wasn't planned that way: White House Wages Stealth War on Condoms

From Shannon: masturbateforpeace.com

Cuddle party until 3am last night. Legendary Pink Dots show tonight. Sleep tomorrow.

My shower is trying to kill me. Since dropping a metal can of shave gel on my foot from four feet up a while back didn't do it, a bottle of shampoo dropped and leaked all over the inside of the bathtub. When I got in the shower I was standing on very slippery wet shampoo.

Andrew's question of the day: Which would be scarier—someone threatening you with a knife, or a turkey baster?

I had a strange moment. After working on my novel I was cleaning my room and found one of my old poetry notebooks. On the last page is Trent's address where he had written it for me on my last night in Indiana.

Selina: so you'll walk around naked in front of large groups of people but you won't sing... I can respect that.

This is a very scary personal ad Andrew showed me.

I started reading my Bitch magazine at work today. I'm so going to subscribe to this one.

Shannon was telling me about shopping at a thrift store where the sizes were mixed together and flipping through the racks she would think, 'I wish I was a size 8. I wish I was a size 14.' She said that people should be able to change size on demand.

I've been thinking about what the world would be like if this was possible. All of our current ideas about body image would be thrown out the window.

'All the good clothes are a size 10 this season.'
'I feel small today and don't want to take up space.'
'I want attention.'
'They will notice me in the meeting today.'
'This dress asks for curves!'
'I dance better when I'm skinny.'

I've also been wondering what would happen if we were only allowed to pick one size and shape to be. With big people who want to be smaller and small people who want to be bigger and people of all sizes who have learned to accept themselves, I wonder what average would turn out to be. If I could choose,

I'd go with Shannon's idea that all women should be a C cup, unless it meant I'd have to wear a bra. Wearing a bra is too much of a sacrifice to make for the sake of strapless dresses.

I'd have a flatter stomach, but not perfectly flat. Perfectly flat stomachs would be a dime a dozen and go out of style once we all got to choose.

I'd keep my hips because I learned to love them, but everything around them would go. I want the thighs of a model from the days when models still looked like normal people only better.

My calves are perfect as they are. We all have to have to love at least one part of our body.

My feet would be a size 8 because every time I see great shoes I want in a thrift store, they're a size 8.

Andrew [via comment]: Right, time to milk this company while I still can!
Too late. Now the hair salon's walk-in special is $25 men and $30 women.

The last two posts sound like what I would be obligated to write if I had a Livejournal account, only with more detail and that other, dreaded, d-word.

Over dinner Izzy suggested I retake the Spark's sex test to see if I've changed enough to effect my score. No—I still get to have sex with only one more person in my life, a girl, who I will love. Izzy and Roberta both took the test and got good respectable numbers. Do you ever feel like everyone's having more sex than you?

I went out for Thai with Izzy last night. It makes me wish the universe could be rearranged in such a way that Izzy could have Time. Izzy is a good person to eat Thai food and talk with, especially now that I seem to be able to talk so openly about things from the past with him.

Yay! "House Democrats today made Rep. Nancy Pelosi the first woman ever to head a political party�s caucus in Congress."

A very small flying bug landed on my stir fry vegetables and died. I think it drowned in the thin layer of oil and stir fry sauce. This sounds like it should be posted in the dream journal but this was my actual lunch.

I was telling Andrew recently that for once I'd like to see a realistic movie. The Thing That Has To Be Done to save the planet from blowing up, or the building from blowing up, or the star or the star's love interest from dying could be finished, or let's see, four minutes before it's too late, not as the timer hits 00:00. What if the person isn't rescued as the rope snaps and instead can look down and say, "Yeah, I'm glad not hanging from that rope anymore. It might break soon."

When I watched Star Trek TNG I remember the season finale where Picard was taken by the Borg was amazing. I could see Picard staying with the Borg and the show going on with Riker as captain. For once I didn't know that everything would work out and go back to normal again in the end. Of course everything worked out and went back to normal in the end, but that's tv for you.

I went with Shannon and Sarah to see the Emperor's Club with their free passes last night. There were parts I thought the movie was going to be completely predictable—and I was right about those parts, but they turned out to be mere facts and not the entire plot as I expected. In the end there was no big revelation and the person who was supposed to Change because it's a movie and that's what happens in movies, didn't. In short, it was a realistic movie. It took a while because of that to figure out what I thought. I've decided I liked it. At least it was certainly worth what I paid for it, and that's more than I can say for some free movies I've seen.

I've been setting aside $30 each week to pay my Planned Parenthood bill. Since this is a five Friday month I'm going to have a week left over and decided to donate it to Planned Parenthood. Yesterday I got mail from them with a questionnaire and the usual asking for money. Now I'm afraid to give it to them—it would be like replying to spam or feeding a stray cat.

I want to donate with the message of 'this is money I saved for you because I want to help' and not 'start looking to me as a source of income'. The last thing I need is to start getting syrupy form letters that say, 'Thank you for your generous donation last year. Since we need your help now more than ever, if you could just find it in your heart to increase your donation to just fifty dollars this year...'

Don't you hate it when you forget what you're going to say on your weblog? A thought popped into my head and then hid before I could get to pen and paper. I have a feeling that nothing else interesting to say will come to me until I figure out what that one was.

It wasn't that Andrew and I made plans to sleep last night so the next two posts were pushed off until today. It wasn't my revelation that people drive badly in Seattle only when the weather changes, but the weather changes constantly. It didn't have anything to do with how I got to work or what I did once I got there. It's not my tofurkey or needing to defrost the freezer or the free turkey when you spend $100 at Fred Meyer because I just saw that. It couldn't have been the movie because that was last night. It's not how I liked holding hands with Shannon while walking through the fancy mall, and while I'm not doing that kind of thing for shock value, shock value is always an added bonus. (I didn't see anyone looking shocked though—yay Seattle!) It's not about how I'm rapidly running out of gel pens with all the writing I do. Nothing to do with my novel, which I should be working on.

It's not about how my mom scares me when she sends me an email with the subject 'this is scary' mentioning reading my web site, and then it turns out to be about how alike we are with our watches, instead of about me liking girls, being polyamorous, wanting tattoos, and all those other scary-to-moms things she must be selectively ignoring, though that would be a good one.

It's not that I may or may not be seeing Izzy tonight since he's said he has Thursday free and has been implied, but he's never specifically said, "I'll see you on Thursday."

It's not about the stapler, or forgetting to bring my cottage cheese. Definitely not run-on sentences. It wasn't the amount of sugar in a packet of instant oatmeal—I was afraid I was going to shake out the entire packet. Not pad see ew or other Thai food. It wouldn't have been the things I keep forgetting to ask Michael about his visit like what his club budget is or what staple vegan food I should have around, because why would I post that on my web site? It wasn't the dream I had about the three-way soccer or that other dream I had.

It wasn't about a job I saw this morning but that seems to set off a spark on the other side of my mind, which makes me think they really have nothing to do with each other and I'm only going to get more frustrated trying to find it from that direction.

Albertsons is the last of the three main grocery chains in the area to convert to store cards. I would have thought they'd keep the advantage by being the only one who didn't make you sell yourself for a piece of plastic. Instead I saw a billboard and heard a radio commercial advertising saving amazing saving amazing new way to save saving saving save. These stores are trying to tell you that you've found a brand new secret for saving, even a new source of income, when all you're getting is a bigger hassle for old fashioned sale prices.

I've been threatening Michael with ham and eggs for his super morning perkiness. I think next I'll threaten to feed him unidentifiable flavor of yakisoba noodles.

I bought some UFO brand yakisoba noodles at Uwajimaya last night (note Microserfs reference) but I didn't notice that they have no directions in English until I was at work. Luckily insta-noodles are pretty much universal.

They need to finally take down the United Way posters up in the break room at work. They are all posters an with average looking person posed casually and a quote about how United Way helped them, but two of them keep bothering me whenever I go up there.

One is a woman with unusually large breasts for her frame. She doesn't look like someone who has them to show off, instead I keep thinking of her as someone who left the house forgetting about the two extra large grapefruit she was keeping under her sweater. What makes it worse is they deflate in my mind. I'll picture her in her typical angled, smiling pose and tell myself, "It's just a large-breasted woman. It's completely normal." Then when I see the poster again—eeek! They've grown! How could she not have noticed?

Next to her poster is one of a little girl with the caption, "They made me feel special and happy." She's supposed to be a cute, happy, smiling little girl, but her smile looks outright demonic to me! I think she's about to go on a murderous rampage and I'm the only who sees it. I bet she's responsible for that poor woman's grapefruit problem.

I'm hoping to find a new job in January, after the holidays and getting vacation time, even if it's another clerical one. What's the proper response when they ask why you're applying for a new job, especially one so similar, when the real reason is 'I hate my current job'.

I figured out why Karla had been so "nice" lately. Sitting over on her desk this morning she had: the 'pinks' from Colleen, the 'whites' to sort for billing, and the 'blues' from a salesperson to put in order. With three colors of work from three different people, on top of everything else she's claimed, she doesn't have time to steal all of the rest of the work!

While she's working on the pinks, a salesperson asks her who she's doing it for. She says, "I don't know why I do this. It wasn't my idea." When he comes back with more corrections a minute later, she says, "It's better than doing this." She acts like they're shoving work down her throat when no one's making her do it in the first place! Every morning Colleen sets the pinks in the middle of our desks for either of us to take, and every morning, usually before I get there, Karla has them squirrelled away in a corner of her desk. I had been doing the work for billing until she got a hold of it while I was at lunch a few days ago and she's had a nonstop pile going every since.

She thanks people when they bring her work and then complains about doing other people's jobs when they're gone. Her way of thinking seems to be 'the only thing worse than doing someone's work is letting Rebecca do someone's work.'

This was very cute. I got an email from my mom saying, "We are "GOTH" and didn't even know it. We have a Gargoyle and we had a Gargoyle calendar a few years ago. Gargoyles are so Goth." I wonder if I should invite her to Convergence now?

I'm going to be bad about going to the gym this month with everything else going on. I know the response to this is supposed to be there's always going to be something and therefore you just have to make time, but I won't be trying to write 50,000 words every month.

Why do people keep insisting on taking something good and then adding raisins?

Styrdyst: a boy
Littlexplosion: how does that work?
Littlexplosion: dont you already have one AND a girl?
Styrdyst: yes....
Littlexplosion: is that the problem?
Styrdyst: no
Styrdyst: it's not a complete set until you have a boy and a girl *and* a hopeless crush

I was folding clothes and found a very, very long hair in my underwear. Roberta refuses any association.

I heard a reggae version of Maggie May while at lunch.

I know I've read about this project, or others like it, all over the internet but I was surprised to see the story of two guys collection a million AOL CDs on the front page of the Seattle Times.

I had a wonderfully awful idea this weekend that I must now do. I have a transparent pink bag with fluffy pink trim that my Hello Kitty shimmer set came in. I'm going to put my diaphragm case, some condoms, and other accessories in it to make the Hello Kitty birth control bag.

I have a tofurkey!

Someone must have been paying attention—the pink soap is back at work.

Random thought of the early early morning: Milk is curdled in your stomach and digested as a solid. Would soy milk then be digested as tofu?

I just played my third and fourth game of Hacker with Shannon, Andrew, Jason, Roberta, and Andie in my living room. Now I've won all four games I've played in my life. I'm afraid no one's going to want to play with me anymore!

Hypoglycemia and cramps are not a good combination.

Shannon sent me this link saying Andrew is being stalked.

I told Andrew he has to be nice to me because I'm having PMS, caffeine withdrawal, and work-stress all at the same time.

I must have hit writer's block last night, only at 2700 words and I never wanted so much to go do housework, sleep, anything but have to write. Andrew gave me permission to stop. I decided that in the morning I would start writing from the script of my "movie". I didn't start writing anything until Karla went to lunch at 1:00 pm today, but once I started I filled up pages. I made myself go to the gym after work, and then spent an hour in a coffee shop where I could keep writing without the distraction of my computer. I stopped at nine and a half pages total today, stopping because it was making my thumb hurt. I'll find out how many words that comes to when I type it all later.

People should have something more interesting to say about my shirt than, "You're a bad kitty huh?" I should have a better response than, "Yep."

I actually started something by bringing in the liquid hand soap to work. Today I saw the two that are there now being refilled by a Costco sized container.

I seem to be getting my period a week early. Andrew says I might be adjusting to the women at work—the alpha female theory. I guess it's a bit disappointing that I'm not the alpha female, or at least that I have to be affected by one. Seven years of the Pill eliminated that issue. I wonder who it is.

I left early this morning trying to catch an extra early bus. I must have missed it, took my normal bus, and made it to work on time. However, if I had left at a normal time and took the same bus, I'd be late.

The computer store up the street went out of business and has been replaced with a hair salon. A sign in the window advertises their walk-in special, $20 for men and $25 for women. I've seen places that determine rates by hair length, but why should Andrew and I walk into the same place and me have to pay $5 more? I wonder if they'd make him pay the girl rate.

I'm wearing tall boots with ugly socks.

As I was coming back from lunch today Karla saw me coming and ran across to grab the two orders sitting there. I thought 'okay, whatever...' until I saw the stack she already had, enough for forty five minutes.

Writing a NaNoWriMo novel is much like doing the concept book in art school. You have to do whatever it takes to meet the requirement, then edit it down to the good stuff later. Long-windedness is encouraged for this thing. I have to keep reminding myself of this, and that no one is ever going to read my awful long ramblings. Yes, this includes you. Stop asking.

New York has the plague!

Paul was talking about how boring fishing was the one time he's done it—you sit and wait for a long time and when you do catch something it's over so quickly that there's no excitement. I thought it sounds a lot like [watching] Everquest.

I don't think sarcasm is as hard to get across online as lack of sarcasm. I wanted to say that Andrew making me special Kool-Aid was really sweet, but it might have read with sarcasm that wasn't intended.

Imagine Jell-o flavored tofu.

I think my watch is giving me a rash on my left wrist so I'm wearing it on my right. That doesn't stop me from trying to find it on the left or from wondering what's in my way on my right.

Karla was being strangely nice(?) this morning. She had a big stack of futures and left me all of the regular orders and didn't even touch the 'pinks' that are technically left for either of us but she always claims first. When someone's acting like that you have to wonder if they're dying, or if they've secretly poisoned you.

Everyone was complaining about how awful traffic was this morning. I said that's why I have a chauffeur half the week.

I have to learn not to ruin Andrew's surprises. He said he was making "secret Kool-Aid" last night so of course I had to try to see what he was doing and start guessing what king. It turned out he was making my favorite blue flavor and was going to bring me some.

The FBI Has Bugged Our Public Libraries

Remember that we are supposed to be in the Information Age, and the government is trying to oversee our information.

The bus driver this morning had a definite asshole aura about him. A woman standing at the front after ringing the bell ready to get off asked him, "Are you stopping up ahead?" No answer. Again, "Are you stopping up ahead?" Still no answer and she tries a third time after trying to get his attention. He says nothing to her and eventually announces Aloha Street over the speaker.

I had to run about two blocks at top speed to catch that bus after I saw it a block behind me. I hate running and now I'm sure it has something to do with the way my throat closed up while doing it. I know that drover wouldn't have bothered to wait two extra seconds for me if I hadn't made it in line behind the last person.

And now, I'm at work, where it's obviously going to be another one of those I-don't-exist days.

I saw a graphic design job this morning that pays less than I'm making doing data entry. I've seen people on Digital Eve insulted by jobs paying rates that I'd love to be making right now but I can't belive they'd actually offer less.

I've slept alone so little in the last couple weeks it's going to feel weird tonight. I'm going to go relearn the fine art of sprawling.

I'm quite proud of myself because I've nearly gotten my Christmas shopping finished. I did have to drastically cut back this year, but I'll be all done long before December.

This bag of Cheetos I got tonight tastes less cheesy than ever so I had to check—still set to 'dangerously cheesy'.

I'm not understanding the way my company deals with money. First I don't understand why they needed to cheat Karla and I out of $336 of holiday pay collectively. ($10.50 x 16 hours x 2) $336 is one average sized order to the company but $150 or so after taxes is a lot to a person, especially in a low-paying job.

Now it's United Way season. The company is giving incentives—donating three hours of pay puts you in a drawing for two vacation days, four hours for three days, and five hours of pay for four paid days off. One out of every three will be drawn.

I'll use the four hours of pay for three days off because it's the easiest to manipulate—this would be the same dollarwise as giving each person one day off. So, for donating four hours of pay, the company gives you back eight. I'm all for time off, in fact I'm donating because the odds look good, but wouldn't it make more sense for the company to just give it all to charity instead of us?

Thought of the day: I look like a Monday.

I feel very political right now. Over the last month I've gotten the 43rd District Democrats' sample ballot left on my doorstep, NARAL's voting guide in the mail, and had Planned Parenthood's offered through email.

Hopefully I don't need to remind people (Canadians excluded) how important it is to go vote tomorrow and make sure Bush's minions can't do any more damage.

"Your Raven-sense is better than mine" – Andrew

I've finally written the first notebook page for my novel.

Court treats same-sex breakup as divorce This is going to be a big step towards getting same-sex marriage recognized, in this state at least.

The Afghan Supreme Court has dismissed a female judge for not wearing an Islamic headscarf during a meeting with President Bush and his wife last month, government sources said on Saturday.

New York Times article (requires free registration)

Jeremy and I went to see Bowling For Columbine last night. It's a good thing he offered plans because I have a bad habit of forgetting to ever go see movies.

A good email came through NWR a while back which seems appropriate right now. It is long so it will be linked rather than posted directly—Fifty Ways to Prevent Yourself from Being a Rapist

Yesterday accidently posted too quickly. There should be more than two posts, so read again if that's all you saw.

Someone I've met off of NWR organized an event called Ratapalooza. There's a story in the paper about it today. The hairless rat on her shoulder is so *cute*.

It's 4:30 and I haven't yet written a thing for my novel. I have however written about five pages, updates for four different web sites and a couple emails.

Seeing soap opera people in costume is funny, especially the day after Halloween.

While writing about Indiana I heard a country song in a commercial. Nothing reminds me of Indiana more than country music.

I just got a call from someone in the Portland branch who talks as fast as I do.

Next random thought of the day: Cheetos don't seem any cheesier than they've ever been, even though the bag has Chester Cheeta setting the level to dangerously cheesy.

Random thought of the day: Is a dollar bill really worth a dollar, or a fraction of a cent less to compensate for printing costs?

If my digital camera was working I'd show off my newest pet. He looks something like this. I don't know anything about the show but when I saw him at Suncoast the cuteness said, 'you mustmustmustmustmust take me home right now!'

I've seen some computer die a slow painful death so I guess it's a good thing my laptop went quickly without much suffering. I'm getting warnings like "Immediately back-up your data and replace your hard disk drive. A failure may be imminent." It's on the waiting list for a hard drive transplant.

Paul is going to get me in trouble. At work he was asking what word I used to describe Karla. When I got back to my desk I didn't know if she had overheard or knew who we were talking about. Of course it would be fun to give everyone at work code names: "the scary one," "cheese grater," etc.

I drove to the Wet Spot last night! Selina even says I did well, "but she can't park worth shit."

It's after midnight. Novel writing time has begun.