I am much happier and calmer today, because I'm not having to stay at my shitty house. Remember, I'm not cursing...anyway, thanks to my sweetie Alan, I'm not home and I don't have to be until Monday night. I'm at, to borrow a phrase from Robert Fripp, Hotel Quite Acceptable, where the toilets flush and the bathtub drains and even if there WAS a huge big mess, housekeeping is a mere "*213" away. We're staying at a Wyndham Hotel in Marietta, kinda near his office. We had been wanting to take a trip together for quite some time; however, Marietta is not exactly the exotic locale I had in mind, nor is there an aquarium in the vicinity (aquariums figure prominently in Alan's travel plans. And yet he hates seafood...go figure).

When we went by my house last evening so I could obtain additional clothing (and shoes - I need matching shoes for everything), all seemed to be well. There was no further evidence of Exorcist Toilet. I may work this up into a screenplay to run by Cousin Norm ("The Calamityville Horror") but right now, I don't want to think about it. Right now, I have a HUGE hotel room that's bigger than my living room, a couple of icy Rocks in the cooler, one helluva great boyfriend (thanks, Nancy - I'll send $ soon, I swear, plumbing permitting), snackage in hand, a nice dinner in the works and Notre Dame football on the television. As I type, Alan is intently concentrating on Notre Dame's offense. I can hear Nancy, Sandy and Lachele all chorusing "No way!" (or "no f***ing way", as the case may be) but it's true. Alan's not stupid. It didn't take him long to figure out a direct correlation between Notre Dame touchdowns and victory smooches, so he's all about the 'Go Irish' thang. We're gonna lose to Purdue, which reeks, but somehow I don't think I'll mind too much.

MONTOYA DELENDA EST!!!