Lots.

Lots.

Last night, we had a rocking party at our house. It's my birthday in a few days, so we decided to commemorate the occasion by throwing a giant bash. It was probably the biggest turn out of our party throwing history.

My sweet friend Melanie brought a rowdier party mix which stealthily replaced our hand-crafted West Indian Girl/Frou Frou/Moby-esque mix package towards the end of the night. The mojitos were delicious, so by then I was quite mojito'ed and dancing broke out. In our living room, right in front of our dancefloor-ready ~15" television. Awesome.

There were emails sent from my account circa 2am this morning. I KNOW NOTHING ABOUT THIS.

I recently found a new perfume, Keiko Mecheri's magically concocted "Damascena" scent. It's one of the more beautiful things I've ever laid nose upon. I now like a total of two women's fragrances in the world, Ann Taylor's "Ann," and this one. The Damascena is significantly harder to find, however, and is not for sale anywhere in San Diego. I promise you I was not dropping hints at all, but my in-laws picked up a bottle from the sweet Catalina boutique gift shop and coffeehouse, CC Gallagher. This last weekend, I would go in there twice a day for lattes or miscellaneous treats, and spritz the gorgeous stuff on my wrists as often as possible. I didn't buy the bottle, and have been kicking myself all week for my misguided moment of sensible frugality. The in-laws showed up this weekend with a bottle. I am happy and very fragrant.

We put an offer on an old craftsman bungalow today in one of the most glorious parts of town. Holy fuck. Hold me please. I might puke or something.

Heh. I could go on and on with much bulleted nonsense, but I kind of like the drama of leaving you there. So that's all for now. We shall not speak of the house until our completely low-ball offer is accepted.