2001-08-11 - 4:42 p.m.

There are reasons why I am glad Gus' mom didn't raise me. Anyone who can walk into a tomato-spattered kitchen that reeks of cat and call it messy in a complimentary sense, and park herself between a 10 pound bag of Purina and a Planet Frog tadpole habitat because she didn't want me to have to cook without anyone to keep me company would have left me way too well-adjusted for my own good.

So dinner went off without a hitch, not because everything was perfect, but because everyone was happy and relaxed. The only bad part was that, when it was over, Gus had to leave for 8 days, leaving a sad monkey to tend to her kitten, her lob, and her boss'lucious house. Maybe my life isn't that bad. But it would be nice to have a real sumer vacation again, like Gus' 17-year-old brother Jim, who kept trying to talk me into leaving with them.

Why had not going on vacation with Gus' family seemed like such a sensible idea weeks ago?

Maybe I was looking forward to some "alone" time. Which has, so far, been entertaining. Since last night, I've listened to a lot of Beatles, quilted, watched two straight hours of M*A*S*H (side note 1: I have always wanted one of those clingy M*A*S*H t-shirts the nurses used to wear on that show. side note 2: Gus' mom also loves Alan Alda)and said, after M*A*S*H, "Aw, what the hell, why don't I just leave FX on and watch an episode of 90210? And to totally waste this hour with truly waseful panache, why don't I drink some Arbor Mist as well?"

So that was today. Only now I have an Arbor Mist headache. Which should serve as an important lesson to us all.

Because just because a bottle of wine only costs $3.99 and you like to make fun of it, does not mean you got a good deal.

What I'm wearing:

What I'm reading:

What I'm doing after this: