Well, heh, I'm turning into something of the Barbeque Queen - so long as it's steak. I haven't tried other things, yet. I will, but haven't yet, because, well, steak is so damn good. Uhg, real meat ! The best sort ! I had steak (t-bone), which I will state right now, was certainly not the most fabulous cut of meat I've ever had, and fiddleheads, only I need to figure out how my mom makes them, because mine were not so tasty, despite the butter stuff. I read for a little less than an hour on the porch, enjoying, more or less, the neighbourhood noises. Lots of street soccer. And loudly had barbeques with 10-people families. Then, I went in. In the kitchen, Nick ran the tap, a while later, after my delicious supper was had, and a stray squirt of water shot out of the side of the nozzle and hit me squarely in the bosom, causing me to shriek in a MOST girlish fashion. It was embarrassing and funny. And then, it happened again. More embarrassing, and even funnier. Then he fixed the nozzle. Good boy.

Yesterday, the beginning of the hotness (where the hell was spring? Cold to hot. Lovely.), true hotness, happened, although it wasn't humid. It was beautiful. After wasting several hours doing little of importance, I walked to Nicole's to pick up the keys to her place. I'm looking in on her cat, Oboe, while she's off with Mark at Wiccan Fest for the week. Or rather, I'll be looking in on him every day, until Friday, when I won't be in the city. He's a very fun cat, crazy like Willi was when she was his age. I am thankful that she's mostly settled down. She was ridiculously active. And insane. Now, she is less so. Thankfully. She is mostly just cute, but certainly, when she wakes me at 4am for breakfast, she is much LESS cute. Anyway, Oboe is being fed and watered and whatnot by Tempest, Mark's daughter, but my role is to go and amuse, and deal with whatever fourteen year old daughter might... overlook.

Rick came here around half past five yesterday, and we headed off to, what we thought was London, which turned out to be Kitchener-Waterloo, happily or we'd have been very late, a friend of ours from the MUD. It was Kelly's birthday, well, actually it's tomorrow, but anyway, she was celebrating it yesterday. In Kitchener, rather than London. Woo, good thing, because we hit a traffic jam that was so massive, an elephant could have bled to death from a pin-prick before it picked up again. For what? For two guys chipping at a bridge. In fact, when we actually hit the construction zone, half an hour later, traffic began to move faster. Go figure. There was good fun had at a bar/restaurant called Johnny Fiascos, and then more fun had at something of a bump-and-grind club called Revolution. Okay, I admit, I did enjoy dancing to the not wonderful bass-heavy music, but mostly because I just refused to hate it. I remedied the music with a lot of pool playing, though. Also, the lights at the club made me want to vomit. Bad effect.

Kelly and Brett were nice enough to put us up for the night, too, so that we could drink enough not to be legal to drive. Naturally, I was still not a lush... I dunno. I think I have lost my interest in drunkeness. It just seems sort of stupid. I'm drunk - whee... Oh, now I feel crappy - uhg. Yay? No, not cool. I was trying to remember the last time I was drunk... and it was in September, at Scott and Meg's wedding in Virginia. I've had drinks since, but... not to the point of inebriation. It just seems sort of dumb. Anyway, I forgot to buy Kelly her birthday drink, so I guess I'll get her at the RoD reunion in the summer - like she'll need one. *snicker* Anyway, we had to leave Kitchener this morning at 10:30am in order for me to get Rick to the bus depot to go home and for me to get to Heretic on time, where I got to dress and strip manequins all day and take photos of them. It was so hot that the air conditioner was absolutely imperrative. I would have plautzed (spelling? No idea with Yiddish.)

Bedtime now. I have a long ROM day tomorrow.