Barbecue was involved yesterday. B and I went to his parents' house and dined on burgers and baked beans and strawberry shortcake.

On the drive home I got carsick, which hasn't happened to me for years. I went to bed and slept through most of Star Wars Episode II. When I woke up, it was time for the weekly nerdathon to proceed. We're hosting a pen and paper Star Wars roleplaying game on our kitchen table on Wednesdays. I don't play tabletop games, despite combined efforts to get me to participate. It's not that I feel like I'd dislike it. I'm just too lazy to write up characters and learn the mythology. These are people who've not only seen all the Star Wars movies, but they've also read all the Star Wars books or game books in existence. I can be a nerd, but I can't be a passionate nerd. I'd look like an asshole trying to keep up with them.

I spent the evening in my room playing my own RP games on my computer. And ninjaing the occasional Wookiee cookie.

After everyone left, B and I hit the hay. I'd been listening all night for people setting off fireworks but I never could catch a glimpse of the pyrotechnics.

I couldn't sleep because of the ridiculous nap I took earlier, so I spent a few hours thinking about houses made of flesh.

Then, at 2:04 AM, right as sleep was about to overtake me, I heard FSEEEEW POP POP POP and lights dancing on the ceiling. I looked out the window and got to see my fireworks. Unprofessional and terribly illegal but still pretty. I tried to get B to wake up and look but he just grunted at me.

We slept 'til 1 today, and absolutely nothing of interest or consequence has happened yet.

Except I just found cherry syrup in my hair.

Hooray for coffee shops!

I wonder where I can buy a French maid outfit.