It's nice having a boyfriend for a weekend, but why are boys so dirty? Or perhaps I should say messy. I fear if I ever were to get married, my life would turn into a series of "Why is this here?" or "Why is this wet?" or "Why are the bath mats kicked to the corners of the bathroom?"
However, we're having a blast. We slept in late on Saturday and watched Project Runway. (My decision. Not his.) Later, we drove to Silver Lake and had mexican food and margaritas. The place was empty. Our bartender, Fred, was awesome.
We came home and watched Celebrity Ghost Stories. (We agreed on this one.) It didn't take long to start in on our own ghost experiences. He told me a story that would make your toes curl.
We were going to go to a costume party, but decided to go to dinner with my roomies instead. It was a decedant meal at an upscale restaurant down the street. Texas Ex and I later had tummy aches from the rich food, but it was worth it.
After dinner, we went home, hung out on the side porch, and wrote an abbreviated version of a musical about serial killers. Seriously, it could have been a perfect day for me. Margaritas in the afternoon, champagne in the evening, and creativity in the dead of night. Perfection!