Happy Thanksgiving!

I've been up to my eyeballs in pastry dough, apples and Verizon repair guys. If my DSL goes down one more time due to bad lines, faulty modems or bad routers I'm going to scream and then I'm going to do something really drastic, like... like... well, I don't know what but it ain't going to be pretty.

Hope you all have a nice Thanksgiving and eat until you feel like you're going to explode. That's what I'll be doing and if I'm lucky I'll get a nap in there too. Oh, and please have a slice of pie (or three) for me. Thanks.

I never said I was smart

Last night Train Guy and I hoofed it out to the Scariest Place on Earth, or as others like to call it, The Kind of Prussia Mall. It’s HUGE and consists of eight billion stores including Neimans and Nordstrom’s, Macy’s, Bloomingdales, you name it, it is THERE. I hate it. It’s too big. I get anxiety at the prospect of going. But it does have stores we don’t have elsewhere in Philly. Like Sephora.

Last night I asked Train Guy to go with me because I hate driving there and because he is nice like that. He actually drove me all the way out there just so I could buy something for my sister at Sephora and avoid paying the shipping costs of buying on line. We got there, got what we needed (and then some) and then TG says he’s hungry can we please go to the world’s worst restaurant, The Cheesecake Factory? Now, I don’t think it’s the worst because the food is so bad or because it’s a chain. I think the food is OK, I just think it’s awful to go in when I can’t eat the fucking cheesecake!! What’s the point of going there if you can’t spend $25 on a slice of cheesecake so good you’d actually contemplate giving up sex for it?

So, our little trip to the mall for an $18 item to save $6 in shipping wound up costing me over a $150 for dinner and some other things I just happened to see at Sephora that I didn’t already have. Note to self: next time just pay the damned shipping. It’s actually cheaper that way.

School girl crushes gone wild

Actual text message “conversation” between me and my friend “S,” the head Doctor, last night:

S: I’m in CA & I just heard I might b able 2 meet logan – i’m so excited!!!
E: WOW! Of course it would be more exciting if I knew who logan is?!
S: logan from Gilmore Girls!!!
E: NO Fing WAY!!! AHHHHH! I LOVE HIM! Molest him for me or at the very least get me an autograph made out to me WITH LOVE from Logan…sigh…
S: it’s still not 100%, but i’m hoping!
E: I’m hoping too!! Whatcha gonna wear??? You have to start planning! Take off your wedding ring… You know, just in case…I’m sure P will understand.
S: he is right here, and somehow he doesn’t understand! oh well
E: You’re obviously not trying hard enough.
S: well, logan’s not here yet, so I wasn’t trying hard yet
E: Go all out and just whip your shirt off! What have you got to lose?? And where ARE you???

And then nothing… bitch.

Her brother is a movie producer and she, her husband, and parents went out to LA for Thanksgiving. I have no idea where they were at 4:30 Pacific time to have the opportunity to meet THE Logan Huntsberger (I have no idea what the actor’s name is but who cares! We just love the character he plays). We both absolutely love the Gilmore Girls and although we watch who we actually admit that fact to we both harbor deep, dirty thoughts for Logan.

Now doesn’t this make you feel like giving $150 an hour to S to listen to you and help figure out your problems? Personally, it really would make me hire her. She’s honest, obviously knows what’s important and has excellent taste in men.