The Deal

I made a deal with Ryan that I might regret. He has some pictures I want and I have a blog that he is curious about – so he gives me the pictures, I give him the link. The agreement was made, hands were shook, and we were on our way. Fair? Maybe. But I thought I had a good week or two until the pictures would be delivered. Not so much. Mr. Taylor proved to be more technologically savvy than he gave himself credit for, and there they were in my inbox this morning. So the trade has officially occurred. Do you think he’ll think I’m too crazy for him? Please console me if I turn up single tomorrow.

Also, last night Ashley brought me a Mento (one little Mento – not even a pink one) because she was feeling guilty about what went down back in the 90s. I took it as a peace offering and tasted her chocolate wine, which was very good, by the way. We played a game that can't remember the name of, and I didn’t pout at all. Ashley only pouted once, but rightfully so when her chocolate wine was spilled. I won the game - hence, no pouting - and I don’t even think I cheated. Okay, maybe I did, but it was only a few times, and it was with Ashley.  I was her Goldfish provider, and she was obligated to give me insider information if she wanted more tasty little cheddar flavored sea creatures.  It's true.  We signed a contract and everything.

Ryan and I are staying in tonight. I am very pleased with this decision because I’ve been wearing yoga pants for over 24 hours and I would really hate to ruin that streak. We only have two more episodes of US of Tara, which makes me terribly sad because I hate when good things are over. Like yogurt ... that last bite is heart breaking.  Don't you agree?