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I swore I wouldn't sleep at my parents' place again until they got a new couch. (In the winter, because we're not living in it, they don't go through the bother of insulating and heating my bedroom, and it is too cold to sleep in. Since they got rid of their couch, that means the only place for me to sleep is in a sleeping bag on the floor in the living room.)

I broke that vow last night because I was too damn tired after work and overindulgence at dinner (HAPPY BIRTHDAY, STEPH!!!!!!! My best friend of 21 years is 27 today!) AND because it is SPRINGTIME in New York! It is warm and sunny and beautiful! So my mom cleared the cartons of books off my bed (geeeeez) and I slept in my childhood* bed. Daaaaamn, that mattress sucks.

Yesterday during lunch I strolled to Fifth Avenue to pick up a birthday present for Miss Girl at Sephora (and, giddy with overtime pay from J-Rock's absence, bought myself a few things I would never have dreamed of spending money on-- $26 for blush?!) and felt as happy and Friday-ish as I had in ages. Steph and I went to some Greek place by work (I dined on Bugs, she dined on Daffy-- yes, I didn't choose the duck!!) and then I went home to pick up my mom's video camera to lend to Steph, and was too tired to think of going back to Jersey. Thus I crashed here.

My parents left at 3 in the morning to fly to Disneyland. (To selfishly fly to Disneyland, using timeshare points I could have used next month in Disney World to luxuriate in an even shmancier hotel, but never mind. My mom can't resist a cheap trip.) So it's just me and the putty cats. Fat dumplings. Stinka slept with me last night.

*Do you like how I speak of my "childhood bed" as if I weren't sleeping in it a year ago? That's right, childhood for me = 25 years old.

Why are you in Tavie's head? 12:52 PM | shower me with attention