I had a night* last night and will have a night tomorrow. After canceling on Pooj, the prospect of driving an hour back to the city to watch television by myself was, to say the least, unattractive. Conveniently, my childhood home is 4 minutes from my office. It's packed with wine and cheese and movies and a father who walks in the door, screaming, "Bethy!?!? Are you here!?!? Are you staying for dinner?!?! I'll have to change my menu!!!! This is terrific!!!!!"
This is all before he passed the doormat.
Anyway, my dad has a life (he was out, I swear to Baby Jesus, serving food to hobos, all day) so I got here before he arrived. I grabbed some leftover Cowgirl and checked out the premium cable. I just watched Fracture. Again.
Folks, the whole point of this post is basically, um...well...I love (and by love, I mean more than my family) Ryan Gosling.
This is love. True love. Experienced by few. But I'm one of them. Sitting on my parents' kitchen island. Eating 3 week old cheese on a Wheat Thin.
Mark my words.
Even that lesbo blushed...
*Shout out to Misty, Cyn, Brians, X, Gina and my homeslice Derek...love you...