I just heard from my insurance company — it’s official, they’re approving the work on the Celica. Two weeks to go …

Many many many months ago (March ‘04), a movie came out on DVD. It’s a great film, hard to find flaws with. Action, adventure, drama, people getting ripped to shreds by grapeshot, a little kid getting his arm sawed off … what isn’t there to love? I watched it thrice and then I lent it to my parents.

They had it for many, many, many months before finally watching it. They enjoyed it because, as always, very very good movie. Anyway, Dad promised to return it to me when they saw me for Thanksgiving, at my aunt and uncle’s place in Connecticut. And once there, long story short, I agreed to lend it to my uncle.

… (almost a year ago)

Master & Commander has been out of this apartment for a year and a half, and y’know what, I’m really jonesing to see it again. It’s a great film and I might just stick it in my Netflix queue.

I made $35 last night on ten runs. Taking out mileage, that means I made $25 on ten runs, or $2.50 a stop. Good? That’s a bad average. However, when you consider I made $12 on my first seven runs — including a lovely six-cent tip from a woman in a million dollar house, nice classic Corvette, by the way — the fact that I actually left with as much as I did is a big thank you to my last three deliveries, all taken as one route.

I hate school nights. Hate.

No, really.

Well, almost really.

I got so completely and totally lost going to the bar that if this woman had not called demanding to know where I was, I probably would have given up and stayed lost for another hour trying to find 83. As it turns out, I had already passed the bar twice and would do so another two times as I tried to find a place to park. And once I found parking, I still couldn’t find the bar because, like, wow, well hidden, that place. Thanks for coming out to find me, Fool, what would I do without you?

Oh … The funny thing about getting lost in Baltimore?

Had I known Howard backed into MLK right near the bar, I woulda been there like, thirty minutes sooner. Seriously. Upon leaving, I was driving past Molly’s in under three minutes, and was home fifteen after that.

**

So as I said, she was the first I saw, I was quite worried I was getting myself lost on foot as well, until she walked out the door. Huzzah!

This dude hid in the Pool Room most of the night. I didn’t go in because, let’s face it, I woulda gotten schooled. I don’t know if I woulda gotten schooled by him, but I woulda gotten schooled by somebody.

She said she was going to show, but didn’t. Might have to drag her to November’s, which is being planned by this guy and his wife.

This dude has apparently been stalking me for a year, but I’m so oblivious he finally told me. So, first thing today, restraining order.

I took two photos. I’m too lazy to get my camera, but in one of them, this guy seems to be starring in awe at this lady’s chest. (I think it has something to do with the angle I took the photo at. In related news, Mike’s wife left with this dude.)

Speaking of that dude, this plus this equals a night of fun. Not for me, no! For him. ACW, of course, bugged out before I showed which was fine because I yet again forgot to return this.

Speaking of Zombie Survival Guides, she was also at the Happy Hour and told me something that put a huge stupid grin on my face for the entire night, because its hard (for me) to hear that someone she knows thinks my blog is very “teh b3st th1ng 3v3r!” (particularly after this) and not have my ego completely stroked. You know how, like, when you scratch a cat’s rump, it’ll stick his or her butt like right in your face and purr very contently, like all is right with the world and, by the way, don’t stop scratchin’ ‘cuz this is heaven on cat-earth? That was so my ego last night. Purrrrr.

She was there, and gave me fries to tide me over ’til my dinner arrived (Bacon Cheeseburger … let no one say I’m not predictable). Unfortunatly, she was unable to convince this reclusive blogger to show, but we exchanged pleasantries over the phone through Jessica. See, when Jessica said, “Snay says ‘I hate you’”, I hope you knew I meant “Blog more, dummy!”

She was there, briefly, and left like as soon as I showed up. Fiiiine. Another person who left the second I walked in the door? Him. Frank the Reader put in an appearance, but as I got there late, was also bugging out shortly after my arrival. Boy was I feelin’ shunned.

These two were there. Oh, no, they weren’t. Neither was she.

The hosts were there of course — I had the opportunity to examine TextureSlut’s middle finger and once again forgot a clean & ungreasy Caraustar pizza box for Cara.

This reclusive blogger couple also showed — MHG is buying a minivan? Geeeez, stick with the Accord for at least a year … also, JWER wasn’t nearly half as drunk as I would have expected. Dissapointment? Much.