05.28.02 - 7:08 p.m.

Learned a valuable lesson this weekend: when in a club in Jersey, wait until the band plays a Springsteen song before going to pee. The place will be ALL YOURS.

Kerry and I took the train down Friday to avoid Phantom Memorial Day Traffic, which may or may not have been on the Parkway, but since we never saw it we'll never know. Dave picked us up in his shiny car and took us to the boardwalk at Point Pleasant. Jenkinson's was kind of ehhh - the band was loud, metal and not quite what we expected - so we went to eat funnel cakes and play Skee-Ball. Much better.

The next afternoon we went back to play mini-golf (I lost) and more Skee-Ball (I was better at that), and to become addicted to the the nickel gambling machine. Those things! You always think you're going to get the big nickel landslide, but no. Still, we won enough to get a psychotic duck beanbag, some bouncy balls, glitter bracelets and a crab/lighthouse shot glass for Dan. Quality gear! Also it was very important to eat an amazingly big tub o' fries with vinegar.

We hit up Jaime's parents' market for burgers and some fine-looking chicken breasts - Bell and Evans, really thin and unfatty, I'm not kidding - and grilled up a storm at Dan's. All were impressed by my veggie grilling skills as I served up some onion, pepper and potato kebabs and corn in the husk. How do these people LIVE without knowing how to cut a pepper? Then it was off to Tradewinds to see Brian Kirk and the Jirks, where I learned the Bruce and the Bathroom trick, and finally to Dave's Ice Cream for free late-night desserts. I think I had something with mocha and peanut butter crunch, but I'm not sure. All was a little hazy at this point.

I don't remember being woken by the fat tubby kitty that night, even though he slept in the back room all weekend, mmmrrowing at 4 am to go outside until Dan locked him into his parents' room with food and water so he wouldn't have to rely on his fat deposits to get him through the night. So all that must have happened Sunday night and Saturday night must have been the night he slept on my feet. Mmmmm, reassuring fat cat.

Sunday and Monday were kind of a blur - we ate nachos, Dan watched sports, I shopped some and we puttered around in Dave's car - and then it was time to get back on the train. Stupid reality. We got home at 8, just in time for me to clean the bathroom, do three loads of laundry, handwash all my unmentionables, iron seven shirts AND give myself a mani-pedi before crawling into bed at midnight. Blar. I still don't want to be a homemaker.

And now I'm here. At work, reading my magazines and not really contributing as a productive member of the company. But I learn certain things from being here, like according to New York, French bulldogs are the new It dog! Noooo! I know they're wiggly and cute and all, but why does EVERYONE have to love them?

And don't kill me for this, but I actually think these hairless guinea pigs are kind of adorable. They DO look like little hippos. Not like 500-lb. pygmy hippos, but more urban-friendly ones. I want a hairless guinea hippo!

And who wants to go see Ethan Steifel at ABT? I do.