rain
feel it on my fingertips
hear it on my windowpane

Here in the thriving metropolis of Cow-Town, the weather is far from delightful. It's been raining for two consecutive days now, and it looks like there's no immediate end in sight. The unbearable humidity is wreaking absolute havoc on my hair, and you get immediately sweaty when you walk outside the door (and not in a good way). While I usually enjoy the gentle summer rain, this time I am less than thrilled about it. Princess' birthday party is Saturday, and Weather.com is showing a 60% chance of thunderstorms for the day. Just what I want: 15 people crammed into my living room balancing plates of barbeque and birthday cake on their laps.

In other news:

Rulon Gardner retired from wrestling last night. Even the hardened Martini got a little misty-eyed when he took off his shoes and tearfully set them in the center of the mat. He seems like such a great guy, and I hope that his future is wonderful. Heard he got married a month ago ... what a lucky girl.

Ran into He-Who-Lives-With-His-Ex-Wife in the cafe this morning. Well, more like I saw him messing about at the Starbucks counter, and I quickly ducked into the horde of people in the grille line. As far as I know, he didn't see me. I'm not in the mood to deal with his crap today. The kind of mood I'm in, I'd have just unloaded on him about how I think he's dysfunctional (and that's saying a lot).

Sadly, there will be no TheBoy this weekend. I've had TheBoy around for three consecutive weekends now, and I'm beginning to think I got a little bit spoiled by that. Don't tell him (as it will feed his ego), but I really like having him around (and not only for breaking my shower curtain rod either). I'm hoping to make our schedules "mesh" here pretty soon for a mid-week diversion from my ordinary and semi-stressful life.

The Rebel Phase's brother may make an appearance at the party on Saturday. I'm hell-bent on hooking him up with my cube-mate (the one that no longer makes kissy noises at Lyle - they broke up earlier in the week). Worst case scenario, they can trade skincare secrets (they both are super pretty). Question: if you facilitate a booty call, does that make you a pimp?

MUY IMPORTANTE! The countdown to Atlantic City: just 21 days to go. We've been feverishly planning our attire, our trip, and the contents of our interstate roving mini-bar. Hell yeah.

As told to Birdherder this AM: Southwest Airlines will be beginning service from Murphy's city to Austin (where the Burdie lives). We must hook up the star-crossed lovers. Go to Murphy's site and donate appropriately. Your donations will help fund the airline ticket.