After a drive to Houston, a small crisis, and much uncertainty Patrick and I drank vodka and saw Wicked front row center.

Also, dear alumni of the Coppell High School Band. Please stop dying.

"Can I have Elphaba?"

"What?"

"The Wicked Witch of the West."

"Oh, we only have Dorthy."

"Fine."

I love to look at maps. I could spend all day doing so.

Frozen mango margarita at Chilis. Did not get carded.

In other news I recently bought the Peter Pan DVD aaandd a set of BOTH of Ellens stand ups for way cheap.

And I think my ovaries are dying.

Today I was told, "Why you talk so fast you sound like a yankee girl."

Sadface.

Yesterday I used a typewritter for the first time. Never before have I been more inspired to write a novel. Or be a reporter. In a dark smokey room.

Men who are water gun squirters and carpet shuffle shockers are also invariably movie quoters.

Sometimes I like to listen to Chevelle.

I crack myself up.

This weekend fucking blows