Packed

The days, I mean. It's getting down to the last few weeks and I'm running out of free time -- scheduling all kinds of things trying to see everybody before I leave. There is a lot of cocktailing in my immediate future, some of it with you! I'm indulging in bourbon now because it's expensive in Thailand.

Vodka is too, now that I think of it. "Waiter -- martini!" (If you didn't catch the reference, that's what Mrs. Robinson barks at the bartender just before she hauls Benjamin up to her hotel room.) (She was wearing leopard-print panties.) (I'm just saying.)

It's 1517 in military time, and I have the afternoon to myself. Is it too early for a drinkie? All this talk of Mrs. Robinson makes me thirsty.

I would have been busy cleaning out the old apartment today -- thank you, Jeremy, for coming over to help! -- but Brian (the landlord) called to tell me he was sending a crew in to paint, etc. and they would clean the joint up. I'm sure I kissed my deposit goodbye when I agreed to that plan, but hell -- it's worth it. Jeremy and I went for waffles instead. And really, my deposit was as good as gone anyway because I didn't finish chipping the gold paint off the bathroom floor -- oops. Household tip: never paint tile, especially if it is old and original, no matter how ghastly the color or condition, unless you want your all-invested-in-period-restoration landlord to cry.

But back to the question at hand: to vodka tonic or not to vodka tonic? I am meeting some of you at the Florida Room at 630, so if I start now I'll be three hours into it by the time I see you -- and that's too much. *sigh* If only you were here, too, we could just throw caution to the wind and go to the Florida Room NOW!!