Now that I've alienated myself from most of my friends, and the remaining ones are pregnant and cranky, I'm finding that I actually want to go out tonight...but can't find myself a parter in crime. Guy friends are out of the picture tonight because of the stupid baseball game (for the jocks) and it's also hunting season (for the billies)...so that leaves me with, well, me.

I have an urge to play gory video games tonight, maybe drink some beer, or throw some darts at Bams, or go to ladies night and score some free drinks and dance music at Slyders. It's not looking promising. Looks like the beagles and I will stay in for another wonderful night of reality television. No fun for me.

I have the next three nights off of work as well. Tomorrow night I'm going downtown to see Eddie Izzard with some random guy I know that works at my gas station (yeah...I'm a smoker...I go there at a lot). Saturday night I HAD plans but they were cancelled, and since it's Sweetest Day (the invented holiday to boost card and flower sales) all of my attached friends (which would be ALL of my friends) are going to be engaging in reckless displays of affection. That leaves me with absolutely nothing to do. Hmmm, maybe I should just work.

I heard one of my neighbor cube prisoners here at the office ordering flowers for his wife. What a kiss-up. Though I have to admit that no man has ever sent me flowers at work, or anywhere for that matter, and it might be sort of nice. Of course here at Gossip-Central Publishing I know I'd be surrounded by speculative co-workers asking..."So, who IS he?"

Though it might be fun...Maybe I should send flowers to myself and tell everyone that they're from my 80-year boyfriend/sugar-daddy named Merle. They'd think I was even crazier than they suppose me to be.