Yep, that’s what I’m doing. You see, Mark and I are going on a road trip in a few days to Southern Arizona where there will be sun and….um….cowboy boots and…um…good barbecue and some other fun stuff, and on the way we’re going to stay with my friend Jeff who is awesome and super awesome, but who I haven’t seen in eight fucking years, so I’m really excited, so needless to say, we are a little short on cash right now, and I just happened to have some leftover hot dogs from a beach picnic in the freezer, and so that is what we’re eating, and Mark is insisting on cooking them on an open fire because he apparently hasn’t realized it’s 20 below out there, so he’s out in the yard hovering around the fire pit, cooking hot dogs and broccoli and carrots and generally being his sweet adorable self, and I’m in here drinking a lot of champagne (thank you, thank you Christmas elves,) because I love champagne. I’ve only drunk a half bottle so far, but I’m hoping to down the rest before he comes in because I don’t want to share, and besides, we’ve got whipped cream vodka he can drink, even though I think whipped cream vodka plus hot dogs might be a recipe for disaster.. Oh, and I’m putting my fire-cooked hot dogs and broccoli and carrots in some Annie’s white cheddar mac n’ cheese, even though that completely grosses Mark out (look at my 80’s lingo) because I love mac n’ cheese with hot dogs. Because I’m 12.
Hey, is anyone else sitting on their couch hurriedly drinking champagne? We should talk. I’m going to drink some more, and then I’m going to tell you about some thoughts I’ve had this week. See you soon.