You're Borrowin' My Cow Boots

I'm back from Lawrence and planned to write this big long post about all that happened.

But I'm tired. And cranky.

So instead, I spent the night sorting through all the spam in my email. Oh. And that email you sent me, I'm totally going to reply sometime.

I also spent some time catching up with some friends I hadn't talked to for a week or more. Some were planning big trips and others told me about their weekends. And their weird friends.

"She called me up and asked if they could come over for lunch. She said they were in the driveway so she'd take her time. I cleaned up a bit and kinda wondered if she'd be stopping to get us something, too."

There was a slow foreboding tone. I wondered what could go wrong with her friend bringing lunch.

"So what'd she bring?"

"Nothing."

"What? So she was just basically inviting herself over so you could fix lunch for them?"

Am I the only one who thinks that's weird?

Then I thought about all the awesome Mexican food Mary cooked this weekend. I didn't even ask if I could eat it.

In fact, Raw and Casey didn't even invite me up this weekend. I just shoved my way in, took over the couch and dished up a plate!

What a jerkface!