Hahaha!

So I stayed home sick from work today, and I figured, what better time to jump on the fuckin blog bandwagon? I mean, wow, when did this happen? Why does everyone suddenly want to make their thoughts scarily public? I mean, everyone's got a friendster page, and then they've got blogs on top of those...is this in lieu of the e true hollywood story for the marginally famous? And by marginally, I mean only on 38th St.?

Speaking of 38th Street, the dissolution is kind of weird. Randy finally moved his mattress out of 459's front yard on Tuesday and into Amanda's basement, where hopefully some poor sap will take it, blissfully unaware of the fact that Randall NEVER USED SHEETS. Ew. I thought about taking it (come on, almost new queen-sized bed??) until Eric pointed out that fact to me. Thank you, Eric, my gratitude at this moment knows no bounds. OK, I'm being a tad over dramatic, but...you know...what with Randy and Eric being best friends and all, I understand Eric's reluctance. Although, my bed used to belong to Edwin, and who KNOWS what went on then. Ew. But that's why I have sheets, right?

Anyway, back to the dissolution: so Rosalie and I were thinking about moving to a new non-38th St location with Pancakes and D, but then we became assholes and decided not to move. Instead, we rearranged. The living room and dining room have been switched, and we added an enormous bookshelf (not to mention a crapload of Erica's stuff), and for some reason, it makes the house look huge. And more grown-up, somehow. Result being: we never want to leave. So the vestiges of the once powerful 459 now come to US. And so should you. Our roomier living room is conducive to great gatherings in front of the TV. We're calling them "screenings." Last night: The Butterfly Effect. Yes.