04.21.03 - 10:26 p.m.

I am having junk food cravings like a mofo. It was a food-filled weekend (dyeing eggs, pesto pizza, much beer at the Cleanest Bowling Alley Ever, fancy-schmancy Easter dinner with Dungeness crab) and it is leaking over into the work week. I just grossed Dan out with my desire for the Dad Cracker Special: a Town House/Ritz cracker (your pick), topped with Velveeta, topped with Heinz ketchup. It is so good, yet so revolting. I'm surprised I even put that shit in my mouth, but I was conditioned to eat it at a young age. Dad could have taught me useful things, but instead, he taught me how to make the Cracker Special.

This weekend Jess and I painted the most kick ass Matisse-style birdhouse for this frou frou charity auction thing. So if you're at the birdhouse sale this weekend in Boston and you see the Matisse one, just know that I painted it. And I hope it nets a lot of cash for the charity. Or that I could buy it myself, but what would I really do with a frou frou birdhouse? It would sit on top of my armoire with my crazy fishbowl art project, I suppose.

Oh, and I might be taking on some entertainment writing duties at work. That was the good thing I didn't want to jinx by writing about earlier. We'll see how it goes. I am so used to being unhappy with my job that I don't even know how to be excited about this development. No one even knew that entertainment writing was my long-lost original goal - that's how little I speak at work. I guess it's lucky they even approached me for it at all. Sigh. I keep vacillating between wanting to work hard for once and prove myself and being preemptively depressed that I will somehow fuck this up. Le fucking sigh.