I'm telling you, you have not seen surreal until you've seen Christopher Walken tap-dance in his underpants. I really love the old movies on AMC sometimes.

The house is mostly unpacked and set up, with the exception of the living room and the master bedroom. We're going to paint that ugly brown away, and the bedroom has to wait until we get Austin's furniture in. The place is great, although it does feel a tad too big when I'm there all by my lonesome. The one other irritating problem is the previous owner's cats used the downstairs steps as their litter box, and even with all the power of SC Johnson at my disposal I can't get it totally unstunk. Also, what kind of freak show regularly clips their toenails into a drawer and LEAVES them THERE when they move out?!? I was skeeved out, and used three rolls of contact paper between the bathrooms and the kitchen.

I am not proud of the way I acted yesterday, it was one of those days where I wanted to just find a corner and a book somewhere and try to find my equilibrium again. Unfortunately, we were stuck in a closed space with one another for ten hours, and I could not snap out of my pissiness no matter how hard I tried. I'm feeling better after an evening of just relaxing at home and a good night's sleep. Now it's the "too late to change anything now" day, I'm getting my nails done and having lunch with a friend and shining up the engagement ring. The rehersal's at 5, barbecue at home after that, and then it's off to the hotels for some slumber parties. This runaway train lost it's brakes a few miles back, now.