Before I take a shower

My cousin's wedding is in Seattle this weekend, and it looks like I won't be able to go due to parental strife. This shit always has the worst timing. The only thing that makes me feel better about that (and even then, only a smidge better) is that this means I will be around for Kyle's camp play. They will be presenting Honk! Jr. tomorrow night, and I'm looking forward to about 30 minutes of rollicking cuteness, to be followed by my drowning my sorrows in liquor while all my female relatives attend Didi's bachelorette party. DEPRESSING.

Also: Kyle yelled at me for almost giving out my social security number on the internet. He found out that I did this because I then asked him for HIS social security number. I just wanted to know if I was eligible to buy a condo! What's so wrong with that? You should see the pictures, incidentally; it would be like...like...living in a condo, in a super-cool part of town, with rooftop city-gazing, hardwood flooring, elevators, stainless steel appliances, a pool, and floor to ceiling windows.

Also 2: Last night Erica and I went out to dinner at Sushi Roku (she's leaving town soon and we wanted to have, you know, just a night of us...together...) and now I'm craving raw fish. I had a bite of hers last night, and tuna is fucking awesome. TUNAAAAAAAAA. *gnashing of teeth* I love the texture. And I love the taste. But mostly the texture. MmmmMMM. I was going to say that I wish I had some tuna here in the apartment to snack on, but I really don't wish that at all, and the mere thought of sitting here, eating tuna, on a couch that no longer has any spring to it whatsoever, is turning me off sushi, perhaps forever.

Speaking of this couch...this couch reminds me of an old sofa my parents used to own when we lived in Chicago and I was 5 years old. The upholstery is rough, and it's falling the hell apart. I think that this couch and the couch my parents used to have might be contemporaries. That's how old I think this couch is. It's so old that it is the peer of a couch that was long past its prime fifteen years ago. God only knows where that couch is now - at the bottom of the ocean? Home to a family of rats in some Chicago alley? Part of a Found Objects Art Installation in Japan? Wherever it is, it smells.