Pot Pour E

• Peach's First Communion was really wonderful, and she truly looked like an angel. We had the whole famdamily over for lunch afterwards, and the party wore on 'til the break-a-dawn. OK, just 'til dusk, but still. It was fun.
• The exterminator, here on his normal quarterly visit last week, knocked on the back door to ask if I would like him to remove the THREE FOOT SNAKE nesting in the potted fern on my porch. Where we sit. All the time. I told him yes, yes I would like him to remove it. Then I shut the door and wet myself.
• I ate lunch with a dear friend from high school on Friday, and we did not stop talking for two hours. I hardly ate anything for fear I would have to actually shut my piehole for a moment. I haven't seen her in about 15 years, and it's so nice to see that she is still the same, still hysterical, despite having weathered a number of bad events in recent years. Love her.
• We ate Mother's Day dinner at the new Chuy's by our house, and, to my extreme displeasure, some wizard had the big idea to take Banditos, and all their green chile, fried cheesy goodness off the GD menu. All I can say is this bullshit better be limited to this location only or Cabezas. Will. Roll.
• Peach had her year-end dance demonstration on Saturday, and Olive had hers on Monday. I now have videotaped evidence of the little demon spawn in Olive's class, in all their hideous glory, and, even though I'd probably get sued, I really think I could win some kind of contest with it. They are that evil.
• I've resorted to applying to a variety of HGTV shows to make my landscaping and remodeling dreams come true because, really, this lottery thing isn't working out so well, and the folderful of paper napkins I've sketched my plans out on is starting to disintegrate.
• The guy in front of me at the gas station today paid $96 to fill up his truck. Holy crap.
• Ten weeks from tomorrow, I'm turning 40. Again with the holiest of crap.