Fa la la la la la

After my supernutritious lunch of Italian and Mexican, all that's left to anticipate is Captain Tom's Fried parade for dinner. Of course, if I could shore up the courage, I'd just get the durned oysters and try that, but I can't eat anything that looks like "a giant booger," to quote Joey Tribbiani. That's not to say I couldn't shut my eyes, but then, I have this problem of an overfertile imagination.

Yesterday was my dad's birthday; he turned 61. I called him and left a message on the answering machine comprised of three of my ESL students singing him "Happy Birthday" at the tops of their lungs. Hilarious... he loved it. Today's my aunt's birthday, which reminds me that I have to call her. I think she's 38 today. Time marches on... arugh.

I didn't get to see the "hunky Latino" last night... he played raquetball too late, and I was out for dinner at B's house until ten o'clock... and we live 25 miles apart (he and I... B and I live four miles apart). Tonight, I've got the boat with J, and then I'm making Christmas cookies for the aformentioned ESL kids with M... somewhere in there I have to run about five different errands... let's hope. I've meant to go to the hardware store for over a week now... and the other errands are all contingent on something (I have to go to the bank only if I get the last payment from the guy who bought my TV... I have to go to the postal store only if I first manage to get a gift certificate from the Olive Garden...).

With cookies tonight, I doubt that I'll see the "hunky Latino" tonight, either, although I've learned not to count on what seems to be, at least where he's concerned.