She looked at me and smiled; I know that smile's for me...

I swear there's some sort of dead animal in my furnace. Whenever the heat is on for a long time, my office/den/whatever-the-fuck-you-want-to-call-it room starts to exhibit the sickly and cloyingly sweet stench of decay. I've looked in there, but I can't find anything. It's a real off-and-on thing, though. I dunno. Weird as shit.

Laura was over after we went out for dinner for her birthday, and her mom wanted to talk to me on the phone. Her mother kept accusing me of being scared, asked me why I liked Laura, and when I said something about being smart and funny, she asked why I didn't say personality. Don't smart and funny refer to that? Why should I be vague? Anyway, the conversation went fine; it probably helped that I had a beer in me. She asked if I was funny, and I said I was "trembling with trepidation." (Once I pointed out the alliteration, Laura laughed) She asked if I had any tattoos or piercings; once I said no, she said I was okay.

I haven't even told my parents about Laura. I suppose I will the next time I have cause to talk to them; aside from my dad calling last weekend some time to ask if I needed new gloves - a 47 second call - I haven't talked to them. I'm sure they'll call within the next few days - my mom can't keep to herself for much longer.

Anyway, Laura and her friend Sarah headed out to celebrate, and I've really got to piss my two beers out. Due to the nap I took this afternoon, I'm not that sleepy, but after I shower, who knows? I'd like to be not exhausted tomorrow morning.

Danny's going to come on the Three Floyds ride on Sunday. I think I'm going to head up to Performance and pick up some good lobster mitt shells to go over my neoprene gloves, since it's supposed to be a freezing "wintry mix" on Sunday, according to the weather forecast. Should be fun.

My Symarip CD is done, and that's my cue to go.