Finally got my car back yesterday. Once my blood pressure has returned to normal, I’ll share the story – both the dealership and my insurance sucked ass throughout the entire process. I should have known things wouldn’t go smoothly when the odometer turned 66666.

Went up the country today to visit my parents. We ate lunch at a place in New Ulm. A buck and a quarter for draft Shiner Bock, a couple of bucks for a pretty tasty burger. They use fresh ground beef, which is always key. This is the place where my parents once ordered a bottle of wine for $10, and the waitress brought out a 1.5 liter. For two people. No shit. There are certainly some economic advantages to living in the country. I wonder how long it’ll stay that way. I-10 keeps moving further and further west, Brenham now has a Starbucks, the center cannot hold.

My stuffed animal play is on stage in Connecticut this weekend. The theatre has posted a place on their website for audience members to write their thoughts, and the director/theatre owner says he’ll share what people have to say. Can’t wait to hear the yankee response. Especially since the play is about a pretty controversial topic. But in a funny way.

I wonder how different my life would be if I wore an apron while cooking.

Wednesday I ended up riding the bus after drinking at Warren’s. Good idea/bad idea, I’m not sure. Of course I made a friend while waiting for the bus. A guy who just moved back from California after getting out of prison. We chatted until my stop, and he gave me the card of the rehab place where he’s staying because we (the Alley) are looking to do some playwrighting workshops in residence homes. So the next day, as I’m hoofing it to work because I missed my stop and got off the bus later than I’d planned, I see the guy again, getting off a different bus. I call his name (I wasn’t that drunk – I remembered his name) and he turned around, startled. I think it kind of freaked him out. So I’m recounting this story to the chicks at work and they are expressing concern that I gave a convict my name and place of employment and then saw him again the next day, and I told them that the guy probably thinks I’m stalking him since I ran into him. He’s telling the story to his P.O. or something about this crazy white girl who’s following him around. So anyway.

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