So today, I decided I wanted to play Quake 3. Go ahead and laugh at me, but I really miss blowing shit up. I spent about an hour and a half of my kid-free day trying to make this happen. I am so far unsuccessful. Before you offer techie advice - thanks, but I'm really about exhausted of this whole thing by now. I am apparently not meant to blow shit up with rocket launchers. That is apparently a time of my life that is passed. Weep with me, won't you, as I try to accept it.

Also weep-worthy: We had a gift card for Texas Roadhouse, so we went there for lunch. Have I mentioned to anyone the reasons that I do not care for that place? For one, Texas Roadhouse. (No offense, intended txtequilanights.) For two, they're always blaring country music. I despise country music, all of it. I do not hum along, I do not tap my toes, I just wish that for the hour that I am there, that I could be deaf and mute. Along the same lines, Texas Roadhouse likes to celebrate its customers birthdays by making them sit in a saddle while everyone in the restaurant screams YEEHAW at them. This does not amuse me. Their food is good, I will say. And, they had themed dress for all the wait staff, the theme being the 80s. There were a lot of headbands, over-the-shoulder, wide-neck sweatshirts, hot pink leggings and leg warmers.

And finally, I am fat as hell and I can't take it anymore. I'm living on Enviga, South Beach Bars and salad for the next millenium. But tonight I will party with Jess and the crew and we will have drinks and play pool. Hey, believe this? Trev is going, too.