springading.com

I suppose I should pop in here and say hi once in a while, especially while I can.  As I’ve mentioned before, November is National Novel Writing Month–or NaNoWriMo–and I’ve managed to convince Jim to participate.  With only the one laptop, though, it means I’ll have less time on it.  And, no, I’m not complaining.  This will tear me away from the computer to try to finally hammer out Jim’s Lego Pirate Ship Blanket–especially since I think after I’m done with it, I’m going to dust off my knitting needles and make a blanket for my dad.

Although Jim just requested a new crocheted dice bag.

Jim has gotten excited about the contest.  He’s been throwing around ideas and ran two of them past me last night.  I like both and hope that he writes about both eventually.  Unfortunately, the conversation about what he plans on writing turned into a conversation about what I’m not writing. 

Not long ago, I had told Jim that I wanted to write some sort of fantasy story.  I even asked him for short stories or novels so I could get a better feel for the genre.  (It might come as a surprise to you, but I’ve read way more sci-fi books than I ever have fantasy, so I wouldn’t say I’m very knowledgable in it.)  Jim happily recommended books.  And then last night, I announced I didn’t want to do it anymore.

Jim was disappointed.  And then I got defensive.  And then I got psychoanalyzed about how I don’t do things that are easy for me, which, incidentally, includes drawing, which Jim (I can tell) gets a little bugged that I’m not more into, yadda, yadda, yadda, and I don’t think Jim gets it.  Writing literary fiction is easy for me.  That’s just what’s in me.  I don’t think I have what it takes to write a fantasy story.  So if the argument is that I only want to do things that are a challenge for me–bzzzt!  WRONG.

I think writing a fantasy story would be the hardest thing I’ve ever had to write.  And keep in mind that I used to have independent study poetry classes with Judy Jordan.  (Hint:  She’s made people cry in her class before.  I was not one of them.  I was lucky–she named me as the best writer in both the undergrad and grad departments.  Huzzah!)  So my point?  I don’t wanna write a fantasy story because I work all week, I need to do more overtime, and I don’t think I’m gonna have time to do something that I think it going to be very difficult for me.  I cannot tell a lie:  I don’t think I’d be good at it at all.

In all honesty, though…if I ever do write something in the fantasy genre, I think I’m going to set it in Jim’s world of Valt.  I’ve asked Jim, and he seems happy with this.  He actually thinks because I haven’t read a plethora of fantasy books or participated in a bunch of D&D games, I could put a fresh perspective on it.  We’ll see.

Okay, seriously?  Let’s quit talking about writing.

So, I thought about posting earlier this week, but honestly, I don’t have a lot to say.  My life is fucking awesome.  Oh, there are a couple problems.  The student loan people are trying to tell me I make too much money to defer my loan any longer and want me to pay over $400 a month.  Which, HA.  HA.  HA.  Yeah, that’s not going to happen.  I sent them more current payment info that clearly shows that, no, I do not make enough.  We’ll see how that turns out.

Also, in not-so-cool news:  Something is up with my cats.  Not one, not two, but three accidents in a week.  And I think it’s Emmy, which is weird because Emmy just doesn’t have accidents.  She acts fine, but I’m starting to worry if it’s because she’s so old and she just can’t hold it like she used to.  Poor girl.

Work has been great.  I seriously like my job now.  Before, I wanted to try to get rid of bills and find a way to get my master’s degree ASAP.  Despite how much I love southern Illinois, I wanted to find a way out of here.  Now?  Now, I want to pay off my bills, get married, have kids (er, maybe, I don’t know about that one), buy a house, and stay here because I don’t see a point in quitting a job I like that pays well. 

And things with Jim, of course, are awesome.  The other day, he sneaked a little love note in my purse; the other night, he suggested I light a candle when I went to take my bath, and I found that he had carved “I love Spring” in it.  I laughed so hard, but honestly, it was the sweetest thing EVER.

If I could just figure out why I’ve had nearly constant stomach problems for the last week and a half and get bills squared away, I’d say I have a perfect life.

Anyway, I’m going to run.  Hopefully, there will be another “Homebrewed” post up sometime next Friday.  So far, we’ve missed three weeks in a row, and I’m hoping we don’t miss tomorrow’s game, too.  I’m actually looking forward to it–it’s been too long, and I feel bad that we just left Natalia, Iema, Corin, and Sunshine hanging in the Underdark.  Right after Iema had died and been resurrected, no less…

Until then!

For once, I’m not posting before work.  It’s 9:30 at night, and it’s a rare night here in our apartment.

It’s quiet.

One of the things I love about Jim is that he’s opposite of me in ways in which I prefer him to be opposite of me.  As a general rule of thumb, I’m the quiet one, he’s the loud one.  So, as you can imagine, in our apartment, there’s usually a lot of noise between him, the TV, and me teasing Jim mercilessly.  But tonight?  Tonight, we cooked, ate, cleaned a little, then curled up on the couch together, just reading, me Dexter and him some sci-fi book he picked up at the library’s book sale last weekend.

By the way, when I was quietly reading, actually managing to bring myself to go through a couple chapters, I suddenly thought, “Huh, reading…I remember doing this before.”

Not a good sign, also an indicator of how I little I read these days.  I’ve been reading Amy Tan’s Saving Fish from Drowning during lunch, but only a couple pages at a time because, well, I just don’t have time.  So it was nice to sit down for a good chunk of time and actually knock out a couple of chapters of Dexter.

So, tomorrow’s Friday, concluding an interesting week at work.  For one, they announced today those who got the written positions.  Yours truly didn’t get one, but hell, I didn’t really expect to (most people in that unit have been there forever), and I was surprised that I actually managed to get as far as an interview.  Most people I know didn’t get even that far, so the way I see it?  I’ll definitely have a shot at the next go around.

The cool thing, though, is that between all the competition for those coveted five positions between our office and Springfield, someone in our own unit got a spot, a girl I used to sit next to up until a couple months ago.  So that’s really cool…although I think everyone’s going to miss her when she goes.  She really livens up the unit.

The other cool thing at work:  Another co-worker–this time, a girl who sits across from me–came in all happy.  The reason?  Her boyfriend had proposed to her that morning.  The funny thing is that I had been talking about mine and Jim’s own engagement to her the week or so before, and she had told me that she was waiting for her boyfriend, pointing at her wrist, saying Let’s move it already.  So we were all happy that he “moved it” (heh), admired her ring, and it was suggested we have a potluck soon to celebrate all the September birthdays, as well as her and my engagements.  My guess is we’ll include celebrating our co-worker’s getting promoted to a written unit as well.

Enough work talk.  This weekend is a three-day weekend!  Even better:  Jim actually got Monday off, too!  Just gotta haul our butts through tomorrow. 

And so another weekend passes–and another birthday.  I’d say Jim’s been wonderful to me all weekend but, while true, it’s doesn’t mean much because he’s always wonderful to me.  That, in itself, is what makes that actually mean a lot.

He didn’t just save it all for today, though:  It started on Friday night, when I got home, although Jim says that technically, it wasn’t for my birthday.  He teased me a bit about having a “sexy surprise” waiting for me when I got home from work.  Friday afternoon, I was going to go crazy trying to figure out what it was.  I even told my co-workers about it.

“Bet he’s planning a trip,” one suggested.

I ruled that out.  For one, we had plans for the state fair on Saturday.  Also, while our money situation’s been improving, we don’t have the funds for an out of town trip right now, especially with a wedding on the (still somewhat fuzzy) horizon.

“Now I’m kinda curious what Jim’s getting you,” another said.

“Well, depending how just how ‘sexy’ it is,” I said, “I might not be able to tell you!”

Guess what?  I won’t be able to tell them.  Let’s just say that we ate dinner kind of late that night, haha.

Saturday, we went to the state fair.  Nothing much to be said there.  Initially, we were going to ride a few things, then we decided not to.  I didn’t want to spend money on it, honestly, and really, I wanted to go just to watch Jim eat the shit out of roasted corn.  He thinks about the fair’s roasted corn there for the remainder of the year, and he looks so happy eating it, that it’s worth the price of parking for that alone.

Also, he got to high five a monkey.  That was cool.

This morning, I mostly just played Warcraft while Jim watched Huff, loaned to him by a friend of his at work.  I half-watched it.  It seems all right from what I’ve seen.  It made me remember my original plan, though, when I went back to SIU to get my degree:  I was going to get a degree in English with a minor in psychology, and then head off to get a graduate degree in psychology.  But then, you know, it turned out I had a knack for writing, people tried to convince me to go get an MA in either fiction or poetry, so I got distracted with writing stuff, but then I got a divorce instead, and then I was semi-homeless, and now I work at an insurance company trying to pay off bills that came with the divorce fallout.

School seems so very far away right now, although the plan (keeping fingers crossed!) is that Jim will go back in the spring.

Don’t ask me how a wedding in the middle of the spring semester is going to pan out.  Somehow, I don’t think teachers will Jim out of finals for a honeymoon.  Bah!

To sum it up, it was a great weekend.  Aside from taking me out, Jim also bought me Dexter–the book, not the DVDs, as we already own all those–and the third season of Roswell.  Woot!  Now I have the whole series.

By the way, our DVD collection is totally growing.  If we keep going at this rate, we’re going to need to move into a bigger place just to fit our DVDs and books, heh.  Seriously, we have seven bookshelves, and we STILL have books shoved into closets and dresser drawers.

Anyway.  The weekend has been full, eventful, and lovely–I even got most of the next “Homebrewed” written!–but alas, all great things must come to an end.  It’s almost 9 PM.  I’m gonna pack a lunch for tomorrow, tear Jim away from Huff, and maybe convince him that Sundays can be just as sexy as Fridays, heh.

Think it will work?  It’s got to, right?  Because he’s got to do what I want–my birthday isn’t over yet.

So, remember how I mentioned in my last post that I had some rotten news, but then the day went way better from there? 

Well, now that Jim has managed to notify all of his immediate family members, I guess I can tell Blog World:  When we came home, Jim proposed.  And, of course, I said yes.  Like I’m gonna say no to the best thing that’s ever happened to me!  So, yup…that means we are now officially engaged.

Although, really,  I guess it becomes “official” when Jim confirms our relationship change on Facebook, hahahaha.  Kidding!  Kidding!

I’m gonna marry my bestest friend in the whole world.  YAAAAAY.

My man is the best one ever.  Seriously.  Last night, after we got home from him picking me up from work, he asked me, “Are you going into the bedroom?”

“Uh…I wasn’t, but I can if you want,” I said.

He looked intently at something in his hand–I can’t remember what it was–and mumbled, “The top dresser drawer is stuck.”

Huh?  How?  And why would Jim be telling me, as if he wanted me to check it out?  Jim’s much stronger than I am.   If he can’t get it unstuck, I’m sure as hell not going to be able to.  But I shrugged and walked into the bedroom.  I pulled the drawer out easily.  I looked down and the first thing that occurred to me was that there was only one book in the drawer.  I know we had shoved way more books in the drawer than that.

The next thing I noticed was that the book had a note on it:

Because I love you. – Jim

I started laughing.  “Jim, you liar!”  I walked out, holding the book.  It’s the type of book I had mentioned to Jim I had always wanted, but it’s one of those books you don’t buy because there are other books you want to get that take precedent.  But still, I wanted it: A book on identifying trees.

Hey, don’t make fun.  I never said I was exciting.  And I like trees.

Jim smiled.  “It’s been a while since I’ve given you a gift,” he said.

Is he kidding me?  Every day with him is a gift.  Like, the BEST ONE EVER.

Another weekend has come and gone.  It’s two days of my life I want back, not because they were a waste, but because I had two whole days off with Jim.  Bliss!

It didn’t start off blissful.  I came home Friday to an annoyed Jim.  He had texted me at work that Gremlin had “destroyed the house,” that it was “more destruction than [he'd] ever seen a cat do.”  Before he gave me the details, I already had a hunch.  Friday morning before work, I was getting ready and I noticed that a thread had been pulled out of the dishtowel hanging over the sink–as if a cat had attacked it.  Then I had noticed that the bread was smashed.  Further investigation revealed that there were bite marks in the bagel.

Either we have some really big rats, or Gremlin finally figured out that he’s big enough to jump on the counter. 

What Jim found when he got home Friday afternoon, though, was a much bigger mess. While we were gone, Gremlin made another trip to the countertop and had more fun.  Apparently, Gremlin found my sweet and sour packets on top of the microwave and batted them around the apartment.  Of course, his claws punctured the packets, so he got sweet and sour sauce all over the place.  Jim also told me via text that Gremlin had dragged the bread down and “ripped it asunder.”  (Only my man uses the word “asunder” in casual conversation!) 

The worst part of it, though, is that he walked across the stove–and actually managed to turn on the stove.  Now that scares me. 

Last night, I had left a (closed) box of donuts on the counter.  When I remembered and came out to put it up, I saw that Gremlin had already beaten me to it.  The cellophane had been ripped out, and chunks were missing out of three of the donuts.  SIGH.  I threw them out and cleared off everything from the counter that Gremlin could possibly want to eat or play with.

But we really need to find something for the stove.  I’ve had cats who jumped on counters when they were kittens–they eventually got bored of it–but I’ve never had one turn on the freakin’ stove before.  Gremlin, I swear, is the most destructive little animal I’ve ever seen.

Okay.  Done bitching about Gremlin.  Friday night, I actually didn’t see Jim much, as he went over to Phil’s, drank, and watched TV.  I stayed home, listened to music, and worked on some crocheting.  What was cute is that Jim actually texted me to “check in.”  I thought it was funny.  He didn’t have to check in, but I guess since we hadn’t discussed what time he would be home, he wanted me to know he was fine.

But, still, it was only, like, 9 o’clock.

Jim wasn’t out late at all.  Phil dropped him off around 10, I think.  And wow.  He was drunk.  Jim doesn’t drink a lot, but when he does, he’s funny.  And, apparently, sweet: We went to bed soon after he came home, and while he was drifting off to sleep, he told me that he had told Phil that he wanted to marry me.

I smiled.  “And why did you tell him that for?”  It’s not like Jim and I haven’t discussed it already, but I was a little surprised he’d mention it to anyone else.

“Because if I tell my best buddy that, then it’s not just something we’re talking about.  It makes it real.”  He was mumbling by this time, almost asleep.  “He said he saw it coming.”

I think we all did.

Saturday, we didn’t do much.  There was a lot of rain.  I think Jim was disappointed because he had wanted to take me to see the Cahokia Mounds, but I wasn’t willing to drive through thunderstorms to see them.  Nor did I really play much in the way of Warcraft.  Lag is pretty much always issue these days.  Our Internet sucks here.  But we won’t be here forever.  Jim watched a lot of X-Files and I wrote the last “Homebrewed” post.  Those posts take me FOREVER to write, so that was a good chunk of my Saturday.

Then is was Sunday.  Game day!  Except…there wasn’t much of a game.  Just a heads up: The next “Homebrewed” post is going to be short.  I’ve been having a lot of bouts of exhaustion, along with trouble focusing.  I’ll have difficulty even looking at a person for any length of time.  Unfortunately, Sunday was one of those days.  Jim seemed pretty tired, too.  We attempted it.  We picked up where the last game left off, cleared out the baddie, did some “down time” in the game for players to get supplies together–and then we stopped in real life to run to the store to Jim cigarettes and me coffee.  When we came back, we tried to start back up again, but it just wasn’t going to happen, so we wrapped.  Jim watched the X-Files movie while I messed around with crocheting and ordered pizza.  Then we decided to turn in early for a little couple time. 

So, yeah, it was nice.  It was a lovely weekend.  And I want it back.

The night after I had that last dream, I told Jim that we must eat the fortune cookies that came with our dinner for luck, since my dream could mean I’m about to die.  He agreed.  I opened my cookie and groaned.

Jim: What is it?

Me:  “You’re next in line for a promotion.”  A promotion is the next step to something else.  And what comes after life?  DEATH.  My promotion is DEATH.  What does yours say?

Jim:  “You will regain something you’ve lost.”

Me:  It’s your single status!  Because I’M GONNA DIE.

Go ahead.  Laugh, make fun, but the cookie prophesied it.  You’ll see.  One day, I’m totally gonna die.

If my dreams are predictions, let me jot this down while I’m thinking about it:

Last night, I had a dream–well, really, a recollection while I was sleeping, heh–of several of the death scenes from Sailor Moon.  That’s what woke me up at 3:30 AM.  Seriously.  I was like, “Wow.  I haven’t thought about that show in a long time.”  By the way, you might think it’s a silly show–okay, in all fairness, there’s a lot of silliness to it–but Sailor Moon has some pretty moving death scenes.  What this foretells: I will be buying Sailor Moon, even if only for nostalgic reasons.

Da-da-DUM.

Then, the night before that, a dream that I only partially remember, and this part, I only remember because it was so bizarre: I was in an auditorium with a crowd full of people.  One woman, located dead center of the room, had a big, misshapen head.  She got into a fight with another woman.  The other woman slapped her and part of the Elephant Woman’s face caved in, as it were made of styrofoam.  There was a  collective gasp and people backed away.  Did Elephant Woman bat an eye?  No.  Instead, she got on her soapbox and started lecturing about how this is why Canadians were better than everyone else: They would NEVER hit someone with a gigantic, spongy head.  What this foretells: Someone’s gonna bitchslap a Canadian, and we’re all gonna be horrified, because who hates Canadians?  Nobody–unless they’re preachy like this lady.

All right.  My foretelling has been foretold, folks.  Impressed?  No worries.  I won’t be quitting my day job any time soon, heh.

In other news:  About a month or so ago, I mentioned to Jim that he and I needed a hobby together.  We both like Warcraft, true, but with only one computer, we can’t actually play together.  We can only afford so much gas to drive around (although we both love going for long car rides and chatting), and I can only handle watching so much TV before going nuts.  So, a few weeks ago, while in the shower, I suggested something to Jim I’d never thought I’d suggest:  D&D.

Seriously. 

There’s a catch.  Jim has tried running a game with just me, Shannon, Phil, and himself back when we first started dating.  This fell apart quickly.  I’m too timid for that kinda stuff.  Not to mention the fact that I felt ridiculous and wondered what kind of cult these people were trying to suck me into.  (Jim admitted later on that he was worried I’d dump him because he was “too weird.”  And I was worried he was gonna dump me because I wasn’t weird enough!)  At the time, I didn’t really know any of them well enough to be comfortable.  Now?  Well, I’m pretty much just 100% comfortable with Jim, period, end of story.  Anyway, Jim had once mentioned that he made a game just for his little cousin to teach his cousin how to play, so I knew he could do one just for me.  So that’s what I asked him to do: Create a game where just he and I will be playing.  Bashfulness shouldn’t be such an issue, then, plus Jim’s prepared to do a little handholding along the way since he knows I have zero clue as to what I’m doing.  And we will be doing something together!

I’m trying really hard here to get interested.  I’m trying to come up with a character and everything.  I’ve decided on a druid.  Jim said humans and elves were best for that, so I picked human.  Human over elf because…well, I am a human, so I have a frame of reference there.  Not really sure what elves are like exactly, aside from kinda prissy.  To get into the spirit, I’ve even picked up Jim’s Masters of the Wild: A Guidebook to Barbarians, Druids, and Rangers.  I secretly call it “Dork Training 101,” but I’m trying hard not to say that to Jim’s face, heh.

But I think going over to the dark side will be worth it, as Jim seems to like this idea a lot.  Although he’s admitted to me before that he was glad I wasn’t a “gamer girl,” he’s also turned around and told me he thought it was too bad I didn’t game because he thought I’d be good at it.  (Not if I don’t get over the bashful/uncomfortable/they’re-gonna-lock-me-in-a-room-and-make-me-read-religious-texts-about-dragons feeling.)  Don’t ask me what makes a good gamer, though.  He just said I knew a little bit about a lot of things.  To me, that just makes me sound like yet another Liberal Arts major, unable to make a solid commitment to any one subject.

And on the subject of commitments, I’ve gotta pick my geek–er, man–up from work.

Valentine’s Day was wonderful.  I got Jim a printer (well, it’s a printer/scanner/fax machine, all-in-one thing) so he can print his stories and start submitting them.  He bought me various lotions, bath things, a fairy figurine, a hardcover book by Amy Tan, and a locket.  We both laughed when we realized we bought each other the exact same card and agreed it was a sign.  Later, we went to The Hideout, which was awesome, although they no longer carry the Tomato Basil soup that I had been looking forward to all day.  Jim was pleased, though, partially because he loves The Hideout, and partially because I had worn a shirt that was a little more, um, “feminine” than I usually wear.  (Read: Shows cleavage.)  He kept staring at me, smiling, telling me repeatedly how gorgeous I looked, which was both flattering and embarrassing.  But I’m glad he feels that way.

Left the restaurant.  The snow was coming down pretty hard at that point and the roads were nasty.  Yours truly was driving because Jim had been drinking, and even though he insisted he was well below the limit, I don’t take chances on drinking and driving.  We passed at least four accidents on the way home.  One car had spun off in a rather deep ditch.  I pulled over and Jim ran out to make sure the passengers were okay.  Luckily, they were: The woman in the car told Jim that they had actually called for help, and her boyfriend was coming back with a tow.  We left after Jim made sure she was okay.

We decided to skip going to a movie because of the weather and come straight home.  But that’s okay because we finished off Valentine’s Day with cuddling by candlelight.  And I won’t go into anymore details because, well, frankly, it’s none of your business, but suffice it to say–it was amazing. 

Friday afternoon, I picked Jim up from work, admitted that the reason why I stayed home was because I couldn’t keep my breakfast down, and warned him he would probably be next.

“Already there,” he said miserably.  “I puked after lunch.”

Damn.  It sucks to have a job where you don’t have PTO days or sick days or anything you can use.  Jim got sick at work; could he leave?  Nope.  He just had someone watch the register while he threw up and then came back out to wait on more people.  Sure as hell makes me appreciate my job more, that’s for sure.  I still have almost a week of PTO left and am planning for some kind of vacation in the next coming months.

Anyway, we were both feeling crappy from being sick and because we had had that major fight.  And poor Jim was so distraught over it, it took a lot of hugging to make him feel a little more secure.  Although I made sure he knew I was still not happy with him, the idea of not being with him makes me a whole lot less happy.  Which, by the way, annoys me.  How is it that I left a man I had been with since I was 16 and didn’t shed a tear or miss him for a minute, but just thinking about some time apart with this guy I’ve been with for only a little over a year makes me completely miserable?

I guess the more a person can make you miserable…the more you love him?  Heh.

Speaking of love making one miserable, Jim and I discovered the comedian/songwriter Bo Burnham  the other day.  Who, by the way, bears an eerie resemblence to the Evil Ex back when he was sixteen.  I even pulled out old photos and showed Jim, who was like HOLY SHIT, THAT IS CREEPY…and now understand why I cringe a little watching Bo.  I’m almost tempted to e-mail the ex and say, hey, did you have a love child while we were together–one that produced someone way funnier and cooler than you ever were?  Because, grats, that’s what every parent wants, right?  Nevertheless, Bo is hilarious.  He has this song called “Love is” that had us rolling.  Just a snippet of some of the lyrics:

Because love is taking that dive
Then, getting really comfortable and peeing in the pool
And love is a real life porn
Minus all the stuff that makes porn cool

We were laughing so hard listening to this, then I cuddled up with Jim and asked, “Hey, we’re pretty comfortable–are we at the ‘peed in the pool’ part of the relationship yet?”

He smiled.  “We’re totally peeing in the pool.”

Oddly enough, that was the right thing to say.  Disagree?  Well, then, you go back to your cold, pee-less pool and tell me how you stay warm at night.

First of all, I would like to say Will and Grace is a dumb show.

So, the whole reason why I’m home today, trying to stomach bad TV shows, is because there’s a bug going around at work, and guess who’s got it?  If you guessed the one person here with absolutely no immune system whatsoever, you’d be right.  I had been feeling nauseous off and on for the past couple of days, but I went into work anyway.  Oddly enough, when I woke up this morning, I thought I had beat it.  I felt fine.  Until I puked up my breakfast.  Then it’s been off and on again.

On that note, if I wasn’t feeling so awful, I would find it funny that every time I run to the bathroom, Gremlin races after me and then peeks over the toilet next to me to see what I’m doing.  So while I’m puking, I’m also trying to push a kitten away from me.    Who says I can’t multitask?

Instead of multitasking, I really should be asleep.  I’m exhausted but not sleepy.  I also hate wasting time asleep, sickness be damned.

I also hate wasting PTO, sitting at home in bed, feeling guilty that I’m not at work.  This might sound crazy, but I actually wanted to to go work today.  Crazy?  No.  Here’s why work, for once, seems like a good idea: Jim and I had a fight last night.  Big one.  And we didn’t say a word to each other this morning.  I figured work would be a good distraction.  I don’t usually like going to work, but truth be told, while on the phone, I tend to make jokes to lighten the mood and generally cheer up in the process.  Doing that would have been a much healthier way of trying to get over being upset with Jim than sitting here, stewing about last night.

Speaking of stewing…ugh, my stomach.  I gotta go.