#15: Shoot a gun - Check.

Usually my dad will call and ask if I want to go shooting with him and my brothers. I've always been too scared, but this time I went. Hey, it's on my list. 

On the drive to Petaluma, I was pretty nervous, planning on only shooting once and then being done with it. Of course, my brothers and dad wouldn't let me get away with that. I had to shoot each one and learn all about it. Earplugs in and big sound blocking ear things on, I started with the littlest one, a 38 special. Not sure why it's special. That little gun was straight out of Clue - Colonel Mustard in the conservatory with the revolver. Myself in a field in Petaluma with a revolver. Crazy. The 38 had some kick, and being the wuss that I am, it actually sort of hurt my hand. Next...

I then shot the 45 revolver one - it was big and heavy and way scary. Again, the hand was hurt, and this one was WAY louder. It was a Smith & Wesson and you can now call me Clint Eastwood.

My dad has this beautiful gun (did I just say that?) that's used in Olympic shooting. The wood is carved out and fits over your hand and the trigger is extremely sensitive. Pretty cool, not difficult, and neat looking. 

Next was the 22 rifle. I had sworn that I was not going to shoot a rifle, but I was told that this had no kickback. It didn't. It was weenie. Either I was getting jaded or it was just less gun than I expected for how big it was. I had no idea weather I actually hit a target with any of these, I couldn't see that far and was WAY too stressed out to care. At the end, I shot this one again and was a pretty good shot - hit a clay pigeon (does not look like a pigeon at all and I'm not even sure it's clay) just about in the middle from 100 yards. If my dad was amazed, it must have been pretty good.

Still tense, I headed back to try the two that looked straight out of Grand Theft Auto. The kick on them was way too much for me...I guess I'm not ready to shoot drug dealers just yet, only cowboys. The clip looked like a Pez dispenser and it pretty much worked just like that. Since I had reduced a deadly weapon to a child's candy toy, I decided to head out.

I am still a bundle of nerves, wound up nice and tight. The whole experience was scary and stressful and nerve wracking for me, but I'm glad I did it. I'd do it again too, I just need some time to recover (and a massage).

Cheers to conquering a fear and crossing my first item off the 31 List!

More Things To Do...

15: Shoot a gun
16: Walk across the Golden Gate Bridge
17: Visit the Cable Car Museum
18: Learn 3 all-purpose jokes (not horrible ones like "What does a one-legged ballerina wear? A one-one.)
19: Go on a date with someone over 40 (uuuuhhh) and someone under 30. (can't this be retroactive Ngocstar? Oy.)

Ok...we're getting there...just 12 more...

31 Flavors

In 5 months and 13 days, I turn 31. Thanks to some creative suggestions, I've updated my list... Here goes the beginning, in no particular order. Send more!

1. Learn to make Belgian waffles like my dad's

2. Visit Gabe & Jen in NY (this will probably happen after May 7, I'm thinking more like June...)

3. Visit Morgan & Bobby in Martha's Vineyard (I'm looking into make #s 2 & 3 one big trip!)

4. Run the Maui marathon with Team in Training in Sept 08 (again, after May 7, but I'll need to start training soon so I don't die)

5. Try all 31 flavors at Baskin Robbins

6. Take a picnic to the beach

7. Tahoe trip

8. EDIT: Put $10 on 31 and hope for the best (I had a good suggestion: put it on 31!)

9. Rita's for some rockin' karaoke

10. Play a practical joke on a friend

11. Drive east and shoot the whole way

12. Visit Half Moon Bay

13. Host a dinner party

14. Volunteer for a day

...That's as far as I've gotten...help!

31 Things to Do Before I Turn 31

Thanks to Jessica, a new friend from the Wine Blogger Conference, for the coolest idea. I am putting a call out to you, my faithful readers, all 3 of you, to help me compile a list of 31 things to do before I turn 31.

I haven't given it enough thought, but I'd better get on it as I only have 170 days to finish all of these things, whatever they may be.

One thing that had originally been on my list was take a random lesson at the JC, which I have already done, so it doesn't count. I guess I can always do another one...

I'll start, you send me ideas...

1. Learn how to make Belgian waffles like my dad's
2.
3.
...you get the idea.

Linked Up

I'm talking to Wenis at the moment and we are trademarking yet another word.

Blink: Blog Links (if you Urban Dictionary this one, you get some interesting things. I am not responsible for the content provided on Urban Dictionary. Viewer discretion is advised.)

I have learned that the more links you put in your blog, the more traffic you get. I've tried this but have yet to see a real upswing. I'll put random blinks in and see what happens...

--One of the coolest websites ever
--I want, need, covet, desire, drool over, passionately adore this
--I want to buy this

Cheers to etymology and all things word related, including word creation!

I (left my) HEART (in) SAN FRANCISCO

This past weeked, I took MtotheG to the city for a much needed weekend away. I took her to the non-touristy spots (like Howard and 5th) and pointed out little tidbits here and there. I was a regular tour guide. MtotheG may not have thought so, but I had fun :)

After a short shopping trip and a session at the Apple Store, we headed back to the Marina to get ready for dinner. This is a huge event because we went to Betelnut - one of my most favorite restaurants ever. Ever. Really. Ever. I heart the Hoison Pork. I heart the lettuce wraps. I heart the samosas. I heart the PomPom cocktail. I heart the chefs. Though I don't heart the freaky fish dish (looks a lot like this little bugger), I still respect the freaky fried fish.

After a night out on the town (and this time when I say "on the town" I really mean it.), I remembered how much I love it there and I sort of want to move back. I think about how much my life would have to change for that to happen, but the bustling of downtown, the people who bump into you and don't say sorry, the crazy drivers, the pricey parking, the overpriced food...I truly miss it. I miss the option of meeting new people everytime I go out, the plethora (yeah, that's right, that's a $20 word right there) of places to go and things to see, the everchanging weather, the proximity (banked another $20) to the ocean...all of it. I know that part of me is reliving my early 20s, getting all nostalgic about places that aren't there any more or aren't *the* place to go, but for the most part I think I'm just getting restless. That it's not about moving to the city at all. I'm trying to find my happy place, as lame as that sounds, and I need to keep looking. I need to realize what I have, who I have, be happy for all of it, and be content.

Cheers to finding my happy place in the most non-psycho way possible!

Why Cars Get Hit by Trains is Beyond Me.

My drive to work is about 40 minutes each way on a good day, so in the mornings I listen to all different radio stations depending on how I feel. Usually my dial (dial - HA - why is it still called a dial?) ends up on Live 105, and I listen to the randomness that is the Woody Show.

They're entertaining, someone usually laughs hysterically which we all know is contagious, and it's great chatter for my drive to work. Today in their news segment, they reported that Caltrain was late because it struck a car. It seems like there's a story like that every month at least.

Let me back up for a second. This is a train & these are train tracks.

The train cannot drive on the street and cars should not drive on the tracks. I'm not sure why this seems to be such a difficult concept for some. A train hits a car - how is that even possible? It's not like the train drove off of the tracks and was like "hey, I think I need to hit that car" or anything. I can understand a car hitting another car - two people who aren't paying attention in moving vehicles. I get it. What I don't get is how someone in a car, in the bright morning rush hour probably on the same route that they drive every day, can be sitting on the tracks of a moving train, and not move. You know you're on train tracks - it's pretty obvious. Next time you're driving, note that there may be train tracks in front of you, behind you, under you, and get out of the way. It's a train for pete's sake. Move.

Cheers to my rant.

Random Thoughts

Thought 1: I am so excited that I witnessed such a historical moment last night. I think about when I'm a grandma (hopefully I'll be one!), I'll be able to take my grandkid's history books and say, "See that? When Mr. Obama became president? I was sitting on my couch eating leftover creamy polenta and microwaved broccoli when I watched Obama's acceptance speech." They'll probably look at my like I'm crazy, but I can't wait to be the crazy grandma with all the crazy stories.

Thought 2: I'm cold. Brrrrr. I turned on my heat last night for the first time since probably April. Baby, it's cold outside. (ok, according to weather.com, it's only 55 out there. Sure feels like 35 if you ask me.)

Thought 3: Don't ever let little chicks with big heels land on your toe. Ever. My poor, broken, left big toe is all of the colors of a black, blue and purple rainbow, and I still can't wear cute heels. I hate that chick.

Thought 4: Halloween is a such a rad holiday. People are so creative (myself and my friends included) and it's so fun to people watch. It's also so heartwarming to watch the children's faces light up and smile at their discolored teeth from all the candy. (WENIS - that was just for you. Grrrrrr).

Thought 5: I know it's only 9:26pm on a Wednesday, but I'm going to bed. Goodnight.

Cheers to random thoughts! May they always be with you.

I Miss You Already, George

I have this great friend named George. He's been my friend for almost 6 years, and he's been there for me through thick and thin. Our relationship started out a little rocky, but he has forgiven me for being reckless and for mistreating him. I'm sorry to say that George is no longer with me.

George is a sympathy plant - I think - and he's supposed to grow those white flowers but he hasn't. Ever. I bought him at IKEA way back in 2003, when I got my first apartment in the city by myself. His long, dark green leaves enticed me as I walked by, as did his $5.99 price tag. I picked up him, I chose him out of all of those other plants at IKEA, and put him in my cart. I hadn't owned a houseplant before this, and I could tell that this was going to be an exciting new adventure for both of us. As I reached over to take him from the checker lady, I hit the bottom of his pot and he flew through the air like Kerry Strug (shout out to Wenis) and landed on the cement floor with a crash. His dirt spilled everywhere and I scrambled to brush it back into the pot and be on my way. The checker lady asked if I wanted to replace him, but you know how huge IKEA is, that's not a quick exchange. I said, no, that's ok, he'll be fine, and George and I went home.

Life has been great for the past almost 6 years - George can go many many many days without water, and if I forget and he looks sad and yellowy, I throw some water in there and within a couple of hours, his leaves are raised to the sky in a welcoming fan of happiness. I haven't been home much at all for the past 4 months, so George has gotten much less attention than he's used to. And, I'm sorry to say it, I went too far. I forgot to water George for WAY too long, and I don't think he'll ever be coming back to me. If anyone out there is a sympathy plant whisperer, I need your services pronto. If not, then there will be a moment of silence for George at 7:01pm tomorrow night.

I'll have to go and find a George the Second soon...wish me luck on my next long term relationship.

Things That Are Rad, Chapter 3

Pickles
Halloween costumes
Candy pumpkins
Cool work projects
Lasagna
Pillbox hats
Unibrows (unless they're on me)
Dr. Pepper
HGTV
Cable & DVR goodness
Soft sheets
Cute shoes

Sitting in Mendo

I have learned today that Bed & Breakfasts are for couples and couples alone. I have a nice room and no one to share it with except my Macbook Pro. Good thing Mr. Pro isn't threatened by the TV because there is no TV. No TV. No TV. Not exactly sure what I'm going to do all weekend in Mendocino without a TV but I can make do. I think. I get a smidge of internet in the room, if I sit in the wingback chair that faces the view of the ocean. Given that smidge of internet access from Abalone Airport wireless, I still decided to head to downtown Mendo and hit up the coffee shop that has wireless. So here I sit, blogging on the coast, relaxing, and happy drinking my uber-strong latte made by two hippies.

Well, I was until 7 tweens walked in....well they could be high schoolers for all I know.....I'm old. Not sure why they're in here...I guess it's a place to hang out where parents don't exist. I'm hearing such wise tidbits like "WOW! CAFE has the same letters as FACE!" and "How do you make an upside down 'O'?" Moms are calling, tweens/high school freshman are running around eating Kettle chips and someone has major BO. "Oh I lie to my mom all the time to get money" "Oh you poor child with an iPhone." "Ew those are like prostitute's underwear." "Or YOUR underwear" Teen laughter ensues. Guess what, Orion and Lucy are dating. Orion? Who names their kid Orion? I really am in Mendocino.

Cheers to random weekends and strangers' conversations!

Diary of the Pink House, Chapter 1.5

A quick note on the Pink House. It's no longer pink. It's a creamy, yellow-y, off-white with dark brown trim. I will still always refer to this house as the Pink House. The goings on over there has not changed, only the color of the house. Oh and of the swamp-cooler-with-wine-barrel-stand: that too is creamy yellow-y off-white. I mean, you can't paint a house and not include the items that are hanging off of it. I get it.

Cheers to the source of eternal stories: the Pink House!

New Things

I have a very long list of things I want to do in my life....more of a very long short term list if you will. This list includes things like learn bass guitar, get forklift certified, visit a new city every year (at least), etc. Things that are on the long-time-life list are see a building implode, drive a big rig, go to Europe...things of that nature.

Not on my short list, but I'm adding it now, is to take random Community Ed classes. Once, a long time ago, Kellogg took me to a surprise event: a balloon making class at SRJC. It was AWESOME. That's right folks, for a small fee, I can come to your birthday party and make balloon animals (like a snake, I'm good at that one) and maybe even a sword. This class was a few years ago so I'm a little rusty, and funny enough, that's my clown name, Rusty. Anyway, we learned how to make a ton of animals actually, and it was pretty fun. It was also extremely perverted and hilarious. The blower-upper thing was very um....long and skinny, and the balloons, well, you get the picture. The commentary from our instructor, a clown in real life of course, was hysterical, and we could barely keep it together.

Fast forward a few years, and tonight was a bit of the same. For her birthday, I gave Wenis a Beginning Blues Harmonica class through the JC. It was awesome, but again, extremely perverted. We learned:
--trills (not perverted)
--chords (not perverted)
--Hohner Pocket Pal (name of the harmonica) (perverted)
--tongueing (perverted)
--blow (perverted)
--tongue slapping (perverted)
--covering 4 holes with your mouth (perverted)
and a ton of other things - it was a rad, crazy, shotgun class - as in, playmesomeharmonicabluesrightnow kind of class.

Wenis and I were cracking up - a lot - to the annoyance of the instructor, who even said "there's no laughing in the blues" or something to that effect. (I actually think that particular sentence is "there's no crying in baseball" but it's the same thing really.) Even now, hours and hours later, "tongueing" and "tongue slapping the holes" are just way. too. funny. Or we're just twelve-year-old boys. The class was filled with some interesting folk...one dude who looked like he was in an 80s hair band, in the 80s, and had bleached his hair, in the 80s, and it was just now growing out. I guess this dude has also taken this particular instructor's class a ton of times, causing the instructor to say "I think he's stalking me." An older woman, probably in her 70s, who couldn't really hear and kept "noodling" with her harmonica when the instructor told us to knock it off (essentially). A lady next to me who was blowing too hard on her harp (that's what we musicians call a harmonica) and it was squeaking so badly...and she blamed it on me.

In all seriousness, it was a super fun class, the two hours flew by, and I really want to learn how to play this thing. It's REALLY difficult. Really, really, really difficult - not what I expected at all. I'm going to find another class and keep this up - I hope to anyway. Hey, invite me over. I'll bust out my C harmonica and play you some blues. It'll be especially helpful if you could provide a back up band and if the guitar player could only play in the key of A, D, or G, you see, those are the only keys where my C harp will sound good. I ain't buyin' another one.

Cheers to learning new things!

Vices

I get cable back on October 17. Yay.

Pathetic, I know, but more than anything, I just want the DVR again...so sick of commercials and bad TV. Oh, and I miss HD.

Tonight, in lieu of bad Monday night TV (I have no ESPN, hence, no MNF), I rented Forgetting Sarah Marshall. I loved it! I don't feel like it got much play, a lot like Thelma on Scooby Doo (what movie does that reference...? Anyone...?), it came and went a lot like movies do these days.

Back in the day when I was young I'm not a kid anymore, I worked at Video Droid. I know I've mentioned this before, but that was one great job. I remember when Laserdiscs came out (remember how I'm old?) and we'd all fight to take home the player because it was "so much better than tapes." And it probably was! I worked there up to when DVDs started arriving...then off I went into corporateland for the next seven years, forgetting all I knew about movies - all I knew about "you know that movie, with that guy, remember that one?" I used to be good at that game.

I also used to be good at Six Degrees of Kevin Bacon.

Good Times, Random Times

Thursday was the Chandon Pink Party and a good time was had by all. That is, until some stupid chick landed on my big left toe with all her weight channeled through a thin, black stilletto heel. Granted, I still had a great time (pics coming...) - champagne, while bad for the brain, is good for getting one through extreme pain in the toe area.

Because of my new injury (I'm a klutz, I have random injuries all the time), I was unable to walk the Bridge to Bridge this morning as planned. Kellogg and I went into the city yesterday morning to help out at the Walk for Hope. We then bummed around all day, checked into the hotel around 5:30, and headed to dinner at Nob Hill Grille, owned by a friend of mine. Yum. Yum. Yum. We shared a bad-for-us-but-super-delicious flatbread topped with mounds of carmelized onions, arugula, and gorgonzola, as well as a bottle of Horseplay red wine from Sonoma. A fantastic combo. The wine lasted us through our entrees - Kellogg with the rreeeeeiiibs smothered in chipotle bbq sauce, homemade mac n cheese, and swiss chard. I relished in my flatiron steak in some sort of yummy reduction, potato croquettes, and sauteed greens. Holy mouth-watering, Batman. Topping it off with a lava cake for fun, we had a great time. My friend was there to make sure all was well and it was all perfecto! Can't wait to head back.

We walked (ok, Kellogg walked, I hobbled) down to Russian Hill-ish area for some fun-times-on-Polk. We hit up S.N.O.B. wine bar first, had a glass, then walked/hobbled around until we ended up in Hamhock (it's really called Hemlock, but I so prefer Hamhock). The crowd was a little punk for our comfort-zone, so we went to Encore which was more our style - karaoke. We didn't take any pics the whole night because we're lame.

All in all, a great weekend, even though it didn't go as planned. Nothing ever really does though, does it?

Cheers to fun times in SF with Kellogg!

2008 - Wow So Far!

This year has been utterly insane. By insane, I mean so busy with cool stuff that I now feel insane.

I celebrated my 30th birthday with a weekend in Tahoe (dodgeball tourney, remember), Meggie's 30th with a weekend in Portland, Kellogg's (30th for the 2nd time) with a weekend of Sonoma County goodness, Wenis' 30th with a weekend in Napa (sounds like a vacation but uh we live here), Swheel's 30th (+/-a few) at Ceja Winery in Carneros, have done speed dating, Match.com dating, gone camping, been a bridesmaid twice, attending one other wedding as a guest and have another in a week and a half, hosted a co-ed wedding shower (brown chicken brown cow), did an engagement shoot for my friend at work, went to Twin Pines casino and showed my brother how to pay blackjack, hosted a Labor Day BBQ, done the 5:30 Bootcamp which I never thought I'd do, vowed to run a 7k this Sunday but I'll be the one walking, and so much more I can't even think of it all.

I have the greatest, silliest, most fun friends ever and I'm so happy to have experienced all of this with you. I don't see my family enough, but I dig them too :)

Cheers to an eventful 2008 - 10 months in!

PS - Some Portland photos...

Light Stalking

Finding other people's information online can be fun, detrimental (emphasis on mental), or fascinating. I google myself and everyone I know just to see what comes up. Sometimes I should just let it be...leave it alone. If I knew what was good for me...

Greenie

I try to live greenly...but I don't feel like I'm making a difference. I have always recycled (the product of hippie parents who drilled that into our brains at a young age) and are annoyed by people who don't. I would like to get rid of my too-big-for-me car, but haven't had any takers (I'm trying though, k?) I try to use a kitchen towel instead of paper towels, cloth napkins instead of paper napkins (besides, cloth napkins for a dinner looks quite fancy. I'm not usually fancy, so I'll take it where I can get it), and will try (emphasis on try) to use cloth diapers instead of disposable when I have kids. I know I should do a lot more...any ideas that you've incorporated that are easy no-brainers?

If someone could now just use the Wine Train tracks for a couple of commuter cars in the mornings and evenings, I'd be set!

The Dating Life...

...why is it so weird?

Saturday, a few friends and I went speed dating. Knowing that it was going to be nothing like the scene in Hitch (good looking, normal, nice, YOUNG people), we all mentally prepared. This particular speed dating company offered 2 age ranges - 30-45 and 45+. When I signed up, and I didn't really think "maybe this isn't the speed dating we should go to" for some reason. Mistake.

I logged into the site, read the FAQ ("how do you make sure there's a gender balance?"), and paid my $27. All I kept thinking for the next 2 weeks was - they're going to be George Costanza. All of them.

It was held in a Community Center, and as you know, this is as far away from ambiance as you can get. Harsh lighting, awkward setup, echoy and loud....not exactly nerve-calming or "romantic" per se. The four of us sit, waiting for an eligible bachelor to sit across from each of us. I was the last to get a guy across from me. I watched the door in anticipation, thinking, "my old coworker's new boss met her husband at speed dating...my old coworker's new boss met her husband at speed dating...my old coworker's new boss met her husband at speed dating..." Lo and behold, my new husband did NOT walk through that door. Nor did any potential matches.

I remember when I was 21, and going to the bars in Cotati for the first time: the 8-Ball, the Yacht Club, the Inn of the Beginning (which is now Friar Tuck's, how weird is that!), Spanky's...and being the YOUNGEST person there and how awesome that was. Being the youngest person at speed dating was not that fun. Not even close. It's actually the worst thing ever. The men (and I call them men because, hey, they were almost as close to my dad's age as mine) were almost all 40+. Now I'm not saying this was a horrible experience...they were actually really cool for the most part. Super easy to talk to and really nice men. Just way way way too old for me. Now I can say I've done it, and would do it again if the age range ended at 37. I'll scope one out and let you know how that one goes :)

NOTE: there was one jerk guy who said that I seemed like I was 24 (I reminded him that the minimum age was 30. Idiot.) and that I seem like the type that doesn't like to leave the house and doesn't like to do new things and doesn't like to take risks. Interesting how he's telling me about me (uh tell me about you, dude, this is speed dating)...and obviously he doesn't know me at all! UPDATE: I had forgotten to mention that he said I was picky. Ugh. Yeah, not pickin' you. Bye now.

I did receive an email from the speed dating company with my "matches." I thought that was odd when I saw the subject line because I said NO to everyone which automatically means I'll get no matches. I opened the email...2 women's names from the 45+ group with phone numbers. Really? This was followed by a "freakout" email - their systems had a glitch and please do not contact those matches. No problem there. Not really interested in women 45+. Figures, doesn't it?

Cheers to dating stories!

Wild & Crazy Guys (and Gals)

This weekend was pretty funny - nothing crazy happened, it was just the culmination of a bunch of little things that keep my life interesting and entertaining.

Some highlights:

FRIDAY
--A pre-dinner Corona with a lime with Wenis at the Napa Bowl (coincidentally enough, I tried to find a Google image of the Napa Bowl to share with you here, and my own blog came up. Time to bring my camera to the Napa Bowl)

--A cozy dinner with a friend turned into sushi at Sushi Mambo, where the food is good but the service is SLOOOOOOOOOOOOOW

--Some beer at Bounty Hunter, where I ran into some coworkers and our group of four turned into a group of 9

--Closed down BH - go figure

--What's next? Why liar's dice at Henry's (pronounced "Ahn-rees" en le francais) of course!

--Closed down Ahn-rees

--Headed to Denny's, home of Elvis, the world's coolest late-night Denny's server!

--Brought the crew to their respective homes and called it a night. Time check? 4:07am.

SATURDAY

--Woke up late, headed to the Napa Wine & Craft Fair, got some sun, fell asleep on the couch for two hours (being the old lady that I am), and then Wenis came over to work on our identities. I'm going to be Batman and she's going to be Superman.

--Ended up not working, I lied in that above bullet point, and went over to JH's for some bocce, bbq, and boisterous laughter. He and SH have some cool friends!! Had a blast with them! Tasted some awesome wines too - couldn't have been better.

--Went back home with Wenis to work again, chatted about our identities, (I have a cool phone, she can fly) and then decided to meet JH and his posse out at Trancas Skankhouse for some karaoke! (note: I missed JH's rendition of Ice Ice Baby on Friday night, a sight that I could only dream of witnessing again sometime in the future.)

Where the magic happens (above)....I DID get to see a little Humpty Dance which was just rad.

--Where do people go when they need a full course breakfast at 3 in the morning? Denny's of course!!

--Once again, we stepped into the glorious world of eggs & bacon, spending $3 on the claw machine trying to get a Hillary Clinton doll, then some dude spending probably another $5, then we ate. Again, had the pleasure of Elvis as my waiter. It was something that dreams are made of.
--After the French Toast Complete for only $6.99, we headed towards that claw machine again, for one last dollar. Wenis ALMOST got her out, then we needed another last dollar to get her all the way through the hole. Lo and behold, the Hillary Clinton doll came into our lives!



--After a run in with an old friend (WHY DON'T YOU LOVE MEEEEE) and some silly cab-driver talk, we headed home, arriving at about 4:12am, then slept peacefully with Hillary between us. She's quite cozy I hear.

--Spent all of Sunday in my jammies, talking identities with Wenis - about how it's so cool she gets to wear a red cape and mine is always black. I'm so dark and mysterious and she's so adored and revered. This is why we're working on those identities. At least I have a cave and a rad car.

Cheers to long weekends and wacky, fun-filled randomness!