What we do is secret (secret!)

Hello, all! I hope everyone awoke to magnificence this morning, glad to be alive, maybe slightly smelly, but no one can blame you for that. It happens. Unlike people in movies. I know I was complaining about this last night, but I want to continue exploring this tangent. When people wake up in movies, it doesn't look accurate in the least. They look just as fresh as they did a minute before in the film, they don't look groggy or haggard in the least, their hair still somehow looks good, and I bet you that they don't have any just-got-up-funk at all. At all. They should have some type of consultant on set to aid them in establishing believable wake up moments, because really: how often have you been enjoying a film when all of a sudden a person who should have been in a deep, gross sleep awakens looking very alert, prim and proper, and it takes you right out of the film? Anyone? Be honest...
Last night was Erin and Melissa's birthday party, and it was killer! Save for the quesadilla aspect of it. You see, I tried my very first quesadilla on Wednesday night when I finally had a break from my eight hour long studio class, and it was acceptable, so during the shinedig last night, I thought I'd have another go at it, but when I did, it was gross. Sick! So I passed it off and ate my plain taco, which is not gross, I don't care what Jenny says or how much she pays you, don't believe her. Don't!
We ended up watching Garden State, and threatening to bludgeon Sean Lupton with a toilet lid (well, I did, anyway) since he gabbed so dang much. I think a thorough bludgeoning would work wonders for that kid. Anywho, we also ate cake and listened to Pavement and the Beta Band and attempted to capture Joe on film, but I don't think that that really panned out, save for one creepy photo where he's holding a hatchet behind a seated Erin Stamm. Apparently he was all too happy to allow that one to be shot. Go figure.
Before my class on Wednesday, I had a check-up in Madison regarding my collarbone, and it was discovered that I'm forming new bone in the region at a terrifying rate. The good doctor Lange said I should be able to play volleyball and soccer by June, given the ostentatiousness of my bone growth. Huzzah! Now I just have to get back down to a slim, svelte (I think that this is about where Erin would say "spry") 197 pounds, and we'll rip.
But, alas, as I type these very words, I'm also cleaning the hacienda at Kayleigh's behest, since she's having folk over later this evening. They better not do any X (a.k.a. Special K) or there will be heck to pay, and I will behead them and bestow it upon them. If that makes any sense... Oh well. I'll continue my Atlantis piece on Monday, folks, as I just know you've been dying for the conclusion to that one. Don't take any wooden nickels!

Love,
Ian