Do You Take It by The Wetspots asks the question that’s on everyone’s mind this Valentine’s Day.

I was a bad girl today. I left class at breaktime rather than sitting through the entire class doing nothing at all, which is what I’d been doing. Limited to a couple of websites that I actually enjoy reading, I was pretty bored in there, so I took off at about 10am, and got home just in time to see the president on TV making an ass out of himself, as usual. Later, I got two emails and 3 phones calls from my teacher today telling me that the school admins decided to nix the idea of switching our break day from Tuesday to Thursday, so I’ve got tomorrow off and the normal 4-day holiday weekend from Friday to Monday.

I took Nanny to the dentist today and we had dinner at Mom’s. We made pizza, which didn’t turn out quite as good as it does when we cook it here because we’d bought a different crust.

Randomness: Who the FUCK told the Pussycat Dolls they had any kind of musical talent? I hope someone shot the guy who signed them to a recording contract, if he hasn’t already eaten his gun after seeing his mistake. Seriously. Stick to dancing, ladies.

Ah, Friday, how I love thee.

We were exhausted last night. Eddie came into the bedroom to find me curled up under the covers. He was expecting to get a little something, but I didn’t want to do it so tired. I can’t enjoy it that way, and I knew he was tired too and I always feel like I’m forcing him into some horrible chore when he’s tired and I want sex. So I told him no, and we fell asleep all cuddled up.

I got to sleep in this morning. I was up when Eddie’s alarm went off, and waited for him to get out of bed before I got up and used the bathoom. Then I went back to sleep until about 8:30am.

We picked up our Journey tickets last night. From the looks of things, we’ve got floor seats, which didn’t surprise me too much. The last time we won tickets, we had pretty good seats. Speaking of music, I’ve become completely and utterly addicted to the VH-1 classic channel.

Eddie and I are going on a date tomorrow. I’ve been wanting to see Charley and the Chocolate Factory since it came out, but knowing how much it’s considered a children’s movie I’ve been hesitant to go to even a late showing of it since no matter what time we’d go the place would be filled with ghetto rats, 14 year old Johnny Depp fangirls, and people who seem to think that bringing a fussy baby to a 10pm show is a smart idea. So we’re following a suggestion found on another site and heading to the drive-in. $17 will get us a double feature of Charlie and Bad News Bears, which is cool because it’s about $2 cheaper than tickets to just 1 show at the other theaters. We’re going to grab some dinner and enjoy the movie.

It Rubs The Lotion On Its Skin — put the fucking lotion in the basket, indeed.

Something tells me that the woman breastfeeding in the car diagonal from me while I was eating in the parking lot didn’t appreciate me blaring Richard Cheese’s latest album with all my car windows down.

Eddie says it’s thundering at home. I can’t tell what’s going on outside here, but I can feel that it’s probably not looking good out there.