Half-Blood Prince

I was out of town on Saturday when the new Harry Potter book was supposed to be delivered to my apartment. So, of course, Biker Boy was coerced into waiting at my apartment (which may be a tad on the um...warm side) to make sure someone was there to sign for the book when the FedEx guy delivered. Now, this turned out to be unnecessary because the FedEx guy just left it on the damn doorstep, but isn't Biker Boy a good boyfriend? Oh, yeah, where was I? Chicago. I always forget how much I hate the place until I get there. But, anyway, I was in Chicago and when I got home BB nicely picked me up from the airport and I said, "well, I'd like to hang out with you, since I've been gone for a bit in Chicago, but I have a book to read." And read it I did. It's much better than the fifth book, but there are still so many questions, I can barely contain myself. Since I have another two or three years to stew over those questions, I think it's entirely plausible that I should go home and read it again right now to fine tune those questions.

I Scream, You Scream

I invited some folks for dinner before stopping to realize that I own one fork, two plates, and three plastic glasses. Also, I can't cook. It's thinking like this that leads me to believe that if I were a gazelle, I'd be quickly culled from the herd (thanks Gilmore Girls).

This weekend Biker Boy and I made ice cream using an electric ice cream machine we had taken from his mom and dad's last month. The results were a qualified success. It tasted good, but wasn't really creamy. It was more like flavored ice chips melting in your mouth. Next time we'll use heavy cream instead of half and half and try to find someplace that sells crushed ice so we don't have to do the crushing ourselves. Although, to be honest, there was something about seeing Biker Boy heaving heavy weights on the bags of ice that was pretty fun....

We went to the fireworks downtown last night. They were pretty cool, but the show was quite short. Then, then, THEN there is another culling from the herd story. We took the bus with one of Biker Boy's friends (after having grilled out - the grilling was a success!! yummy burgers and potato salad and sweet corn) downtown. Well, after the fireworks, BB and I wanted to go home, but his friend wanted to go out with some of her friends, so we left her downtown with her friends. Then we took the bus back to Biker Boy's place. Then I took some of his plates and cutlery (did I mention that I volunteered to host a dinner party and I only own one fork?) and went to get Magenta.

Only, here's the thing. There's no Magenta. I walk past where I thought I had parked. No Magenta. Walk a little more. No Magenta. Okay, so here's my thought process. I thought I had parked legally. But maybe I had not. Maybe I got towed. Huh. That's not unheard of. Maybe someone STOLE Magenta. I must admit that this possibility left my mind almost as soon as it occurred. After all, who would really steal Magenta? As much as I love her, she's not really valuable unless you need to move a couch or a mattress. I stand there on the street, looking at the parking spot I distinctly remembered parking her at. Keep in mind, it's almost one in the morning and I'm not operating at fully speed.

OOOOHHHH......we had driven over to Biker Boy's friend's apartment. Magenta was blocks and blocks away. I'm so stupid. *sigh* I deserve to get culled.