Last night went nicely. The weather hit us, as expected, and it cooled down 20 degrees in an hour, making opening the windows a viable option for the first time in days. It does wonders for a person�s mood as well. I felt so good yesterday that I even painted my toenails. It�s the first time in a year that I�ve had a color on them and I keep looking at them, in all their fuck-me red glory.

I am overjoyed about the Lawrence Vs. Texas ruling. It seems so ridiculous that it�s taken 17 years to get this through properly. People should have the right to do whatever they please with whomever they please, so long as it�s consensual and the parties are of age, within the privacy of their own homes. I�m not saying this just because I happen to enjoy frolicking with people of my same sex; I say it because I think that saying you can�t do certain things sexually when it�s not hurting anybody is simply asinine. If �deviant sexual acts� were outlawed, where would that leave those of us who enjoy being smacked about a little, having our hair pulled, being tied to our beds, and ordered to do dirty, dirty things? That Santorum ass jockey can go to hell for all I care.

I�ve got to go pasta salad ingredient shopping when I get Luke at work. I don�t even know half of what to put into it, as I can do whatever the hell I want. Last night I called Andy to see if I could borrow his blender and, upon his approval, told him that I would be by later. I didn�t think to bother calling, as he always tells us not to, so we headed over in the tail end of the rain and walked up to his very dark apartment, complete with drawn blinds. Luke knocked at the slider, while I went to the buzzer muttering about how if he weren�t home I was going to kick his ass. I buzzed once, long, and again a minute or two later with several short blasts and waited. Andy came over the intercom saying, �Hold on a second, I was just about to get in the shower.� And prompting me to exclaim, �Oh, jeez, he�s naked!� He came to the slider after presumably throwing on clothes and proceeded to complain about how we hadn�t called before arriving. Pfff. We grabbed the blender and went on our merry way, letting him shower or do whatever business he was up to prior to our showing up.

Luke spent the entire afternoon and the ensuing evening reading, trying to get through the entire book in a day, saying that the sooner he gets done with it, the sooner I can have it all to myself. I don�t understand what difference it makes, though, when I have all day to read, making needing it all to myself really unnecessary. At any rate, I spent a good chunk of time feeling rather left out, but I told him so and he made it a point to be close to me all night long, even if he was still reading.

I�ve only just realized the one benefit to having it be too hot to move: no children screaming outside all day long. Don�t these kids have parents to let them know that they do, in fact, have neighbors who don�t appreciate all the bellowing? I imagine, though, that said parents are off working, leaving older children in charge of younger ones. I wish they had school year round. It would kept he little blighters quiet and out of the pool, allowing me to use it to my heart�s content without fearing the interference of splashes and random kicks from kids who don�t watch what they�re doing.

I dreamt of tattoos this morning. I can�t remember specifics, but I think it means that my urges to get another are growing. If only money weren�t involved in the procurement of body art. It could also be related to the news of C having gone out and gotten a rather large and ugly tattoo on his back recently. He chose the location so as to hide it from Mom. Were she to know about such a thing, she�d have his ass on a meat hook.

I�m getting performance anxiety related to the whole pasta salad thing. I have a great deal of confidence in myself regarding my culinary skills, but these are people who think anything bland is haute cuisine. Garlic is foreign to them, as are vegetables that don�t come from a can. I don�t want to displease them, but I also don�t want to make something that I can�t be proud of, so I�m taking advantage of my free reign and making something I know I�ll like. I�ve found some tasty sounding vinaigrette recipes on the web and plan to try one of them out (hence the need of a proper blender). If the partygoers don�t like it, it just means that I get to take more home with me. We also learned that we�re going to be the ones responsible not only for picking up the keg, but also for returning all the things for which you pay a deposit, so that means that Luke and I get to decide when all the underagers have to stop drinking beer. I�ve always wanted to wield such power in the faces of ungrateful punks and now I have my chance! Take that, you maggot-encrusted bastards! (The kids, not you.)