Loving Lappy

I was so worried that I'd miss the first episode (installment? orgasm?) of Dr. Horrible's Sing Along Blog (Tuesday people!) that I went out and bought myself a laptop. I have yet to name her, but I'm pretty sure she'll be covered in bumper stickers and chocolate smudges soon. She was the cheapest lappy in stock & I'm pretty sure two minutes typing on this thing will give me carpal tunnel. But oh holy crap, I can lay in bed and stalk my imaginary boyfriends. I mean read interviews and look at pretty pictures of Joss and Ewan.

I've been up since four o'clock this morning. Kathleen and I were out drinking last night, celebrating her birthday. It was two for ones at the Independent. Haven't had a whisky lemonade in ages. Unfortunately, I hadn't had any lunch either. It's sad when it only takes ten minutes to get wasted. We also ate at Chino Latino, which is usually good food and always freaky people watching. (and I say that as one of the freaks, no delusions there.)

Total Winehouse Wannabe Hostess. Somebody so lied to her about how cute her bedazzeled homemade headband was. I don't normally fashion police anyone because A) that's Kathleen's job and B) have you looked at any of my outfits? Ever? Still, her and the beaver short shorts and the table of 12 year olds pushed me over the edge. Wait. No, maybe it was all the whiskey.

No cute boys out last night, other than the 12 year olds. Nothing makes me feel older than watching kids I could have given birth to belly up to the bar. Thankfully I'm not hung over, just too tired to sleep. With old lady arthritic fingers. It's only funny because it's true.