Luke and I are such curmudgeons that during the complex picnic today we sat in our living room and made fun of the people who attended. A lot of folks just filled their plates and went back to their apartments. I don�t see the point in that. I know it�s raining frogs and goblins out there, but that�s why they had tents and tables set up underneath said tents.

Speaking of the rain, I just nee to say how happy it�s making me. The only problem I have is that in the three months since it regularly rained, people seem to have forgotten how to drive in it and it really makes leaving the house a chore. It�s not like rain suddenly makes you forget what was in the driver�s ed manuals. Yes, your headlights are supposed to be on if your wipers are going; rain decreases visibility and if you don�t have your lights on and I smash into you because I can�t fucking see your idiot ass, it�s your fault. Sometimes I just want to drive to a full parking lot and start hitting cars. Somebody get me a front loader or some other seriously heavy-duty vehicle. I�d really love it. I don�t shoot things or even want to, I just have a desire to hurt cars and other presumably precious belongings.

I slept well last night, even though I went to sleep a lot later than I expected to. I put in a movie when I lay down and set the TV and stereo to go off an hour later. Somehow, I made it through the entire hour and watched them shut themselves off, the stereo giving its OCR �goodbye� followed by a trail of Zs.

I�m looking forward to the weekend. We don�t have any plans, but the time will probably be well spent. I�m hoping we can get out of M&G�s as swiftly and easily as we did last week. Most of the time having dinner with them is kind of a chore. If they�d let me cook, I�d be happier to eat there, but I�m not a meat and potatoes kind of girl, so I usually end up being disappointed with a chunk of bland animal and equally bland potato since their spice selection consists of years old, clumpy garlic powder and seasoned salt. I want plain herbs and spices, not some sad mishmash of no name crap mixed with a shoeload of salt. It just doesn�t do it for me. I wonder if it�s a Midwestern thing. My grandpa, a born Midwesterner laid it out pretty plainly for me when I was little, saying that there wasn�t a great deal of variation in terms of food choices, but I thought that would have changed in the 60-odd years since he was born. It has to a certain extent, but cooking at home is still something of an abomination or maybe it�s just the people I�ve eaten with. Luke�s grandma cooks very homey meals, lots of biscuits, gravy, potatoes, and meats (rarely a green vegetable in sight) and it�s literally constipation on a plate, but at least it tastes good going in. She doesn�t fear the onion and other aromatics.