I recently decided to make Gilmore Girls my New Show. Although I am crazy about it, this is turning out to be a questionable decision because Tuesday has become a night of weeping, introspection, and longing for a boyfriend (!). I thought I was going to get away with dry eyes tonight until the very last instant. I exploded. I want a Luke.
Oh my God, Henry is eating the pot roast! He snuck up on it and ate it! He has never eaten people food before in his entire little cat life (except for licking the tuna cans clean, but that doesn't count). I have finally satisfied my housecat! I am an amazing cook!
I must have failed to hide my totally embarrassing Star Trek book in my purse at the grocery store today, because the extremely dorky high school-aged cashier gave me the GODDAMNED VULCAN SALUTE when I left! Jesus, thank God he said "have a good night," if he had thrown me a "live long and prosper" I -- I don't know what I would have done. It made me crack up every time I thought about it on the way home, though, so I guess it was okay. Man, though. Man!